Death's Queen (The Complete Series)

by Janeal Falor

Doesn’t stop the memories from coming.

  I shove them away as best I can and make my way to the chalice. It sits on the pedestal, almost glowing. Maybe it is. I don’t understand the magic contained within it.

  And yet, I keep drinking it.

  Thoughts try to flood me, but I don’t dare acknowledge them. Instead, I run my fingers across the names chiseled onto the pillar. They automatically appear when someone dies from drinking the Mortum Tura. The names are tiny, filling all sides of the chest-high pillar. There must be thousands upon thousands of names here.

  So many women died. Had their life taken from them because they wanted to be queen. How many of them were desired to rule and to do good for their country? Not all, I’m certain, but it stands to reason that many on this list would have done a good job.

  I know the First Queen said this was the only way to make it work, but it is barbaric.

  Besides, how many queens have taken this country to ruin? I remember someone once saying all queens turn out cruel. That the power gets to them, and they become hungry for it—eager for a way to get what they want instead of what’s best for the people.

  What power does the Mortum Tura hold that prevents the queens who’ve been crowned from turning? The First Queen’s presence feels near. I wish I could ask her more about it—thoughts that I didn’t think on previously, things that should have crossed my mind. I should, tonight.

  Before I realize what I’m doing, I grab the chalice and guzzle the Mortum Tura until it’s two thirds of the way gone. I slam it back down on its pedestal. It tastes so good. Like sweetness and power.

  But I never wanted power.

  Even now, I’d gladly trade it to someone else, but not if it meant my death. Which it will, and there’s no guarantee that the new queen will want to take care this country. Queen Deedra was example enough of that.

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying not to think about the power pulsing through my veins and ignoring the fact that all the mirrors around me are lighting up with the glow of the Mortum Tura.

  The magic coursing through me is almost like a living thing. What can I do with it? Is there something that could help me or my people? There has to be some use to all this magic, or there’s no point in continuing to drink it.

  The First Queen should know. I add that to my list of questions. Then again, maybe I should be looking myself. Using my resources. The library will have information on magic. Books that can help me understand it better. If I can understand it, perhaps I can help the people understand it better too.

  A noise comes from behind me. I whirl around, draw my daggers, and press them against the neck of the woman behind me. A guard stands next to her.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I ask.

  Her voice shakes. “I was sent for the chalice, for the country dance.”

  I withdraw my blades, pretending like her startling me was nothing. “Of course. Take it.”

  She curtsies before taking the chalice and setting it on a serving board she held. Without looking at me, she hurries from the room.

  I glance back at the pedestal, with all those names carved on it. Women who shouldn’t be forgotten, yet most are probably no more than a name carved on the stone.

  I will remember them.

  Chapter 34

  “Where have you been?” Inkga asks.

  She must be getting comfortable if she’s willing to talk to me like that. “Around.”

  “Well, around isn’t going to earn you a bath before festivities. We’ll have to skip it.”

  I shouldn’t have taken so long. A bath would have been nice. I’ve gotten used to having deliciously warm water in a large tub. It was worth missing it this time, though. I needed to think on those names.

  “At least it’s a country dance and not a formal one,” she continues. “Preparing you for it will be a lot easier than if we had to do everything fancy.”

  She motions to my chair in front of my vanity, and I take a seat and glance at her through the mirror as she runs her fingers through my hair.

  “It’s growing so fast. I might be able to put braids in it. Then we can pin up the ends.”

  “Whatever you think is best.” Blades know she understands a lot more about this than I do.

  She moves the brush through my hair. “One day, you may have an opinion on this.”

  “And take over your job?” It would be less to worry about than being the queen, if nothing else.

  She laughs. “I don’t think you’ll ever replace me.”

  “I’m glad you have such confidence.” My words are dry.

  “Not as much as you think I have, but it’s definitely increased since you gave me this position.” She moves her fingers deftly through my hair, pulling and twisting in ways I can tell will make flattering results.

  “Giving you this position was one of the smartest things I’ve done,” I say.

  “I don’t know about that, but I appreciate the position.”

  “How are your parents?”

  “They are good. Content.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to have people in my employment unhappy.”

  “You know, you can’t make everyone happy.” She finishes with my hair.

  I swirl around in my seat to face her. “Maybe not, but I can do my best.”

  She smiles. “And I’ll do my best to help you.”

  We continue to talk as she helps me pick out a plain yet beautiful dress that will help me stand out, but not too much. After I’m ready, she brings out a simple tiara that is enough to make me known as the queen, but more subdued than something I would wear to a more formal event.

  I glance in the mirror. The silver lines shine against my hair, settling in perfectly along my braids. My eyes are bright with excitement, and I have a grin on my face. If now’s not a good time to make my entrance, I don’t know what will be.

  “I’m ready,” I say.

  Julina, who’s been silent in the corner of my room, moves to my door and opens it, then goes through first to make certain a problem didn’t arise while I was getting ready. She comes back and motions for me to go ahead of her.

  When I go out of my sitting room, Jaku and the other guards are waiting for me, along with my ladies-in-waiting. They are all dressed more simply than I’m used to, with narrower skirts and less lace and beading.

  They curtsy at my entrance, and I take my place in the middle of the group, anxious to see what tonight will bring. My wish is for joy and happiness to my people. And if I’m lucky, to Nash.

  We walk a ways down the hall and turn a corner to find Mother and Father headed toward us. They give a bow and join our group, Mother talking faster than I can keep up with.

  Father is silent as usual. Sometimes I think I’m more related to him than her. He’s quiet and can stalk into a room. He seems to think deeply, though I should strive to be more like Mother—friendly and outgoing. It’s hard to open myself up to that when I’m not sure it’s me. I have to push myself to expand into who I need to be.

  Nash is waiting by the doorway of the palace, along with the rest of the council. I wasn’t certain they were going to make it, but I suppose it’s something they’re required to do. They bow to me, and even after I tell them to rise, I wonder about them. Are they going to continue working with me. I ignore it for now. There will be time to think on it later.

  The thought of him will not be ignored, though.

  Nash.

  His presence burns bright against the others. I let my gaze flitter to him. He gives a hint of a smile, and then we’re off, and I can’t pay him any more attention. I smile and wave at everyone, but my mind stays with him. With how much I want him and how it can never be. With the way I care for him—love him—and how my duty will always come before us.

  We pass through the open portcullis, and I watch the crowd gathered on both sides of the road. As I pass, they bow, then rise and follow us.

  We go deeper into the
heart of the city. It doesn’t take long to walk there, but the procession grows slower the farther we go from the crowd. The road is full of people, and as it opens up into an open square, I hear the pounding of a drum. Then all goes silent.

  Everyone looks to me with eager eyes, except for my guards, who stay vigilant. It’s times like this, when great things are expected of me, that I hate being the queen.

  What do I say? I should have thought of this beforehand. I can let them know I care and that I’m trying. Is it enough?

  “Thank you all for coming. I’m grateful to be back in the city and among you. While I was out on my travels of the country, I saw much. One thing I want to relate to you is that I plan to open trade among the cities. As such, I will be lowering taxes on goods traded between cities to encourage movement.” And hopefully the council doesn’t get upset with me for not talking with them about this in detail.

  Someone claps, then another and another, until the whole square and beyond is full of cheering. Maybe I’ll get this thing right—at least sometimes.

  I raise a hand to quiet the crowd, though it takes some time to reach the outer edges of the crowd. Once they’re fairly silent, I encourage everyone to dance.

  The square becomes alive with life, the drum pounding out a rhythmic beat, while a vilka is strummed. People clear out of the center of the square, making room for dancers. Even some of my council members join them. There are smiles on everyone’s faces. Except Nash’s.

  He stands, staring straight ahead, ignoring me as I’m trying to ignore him.

  There’s an energy between us, though. Something almost tangible, like a string that hums, going from him to me, pulling me toward him. To notice him. To touch him. To feel him.

  But I’m stuck staring at the dancers.

  I pretend the connection’s not there. That I’m not being called to him.

  A new song starts up. Someone taps their foot, and others follow until the sound reverberates through the air. The drums pound with the rhythm, the vilka playing a tune. The crowd dances, and I join in from where I’m standing, stomping my foot and clapping.

  Energy fills me and brings the music through me, making me smile. I glance at Jaku, but he’s watching the area around me with the rest of the guards. Pretending I’m not alone in my dancing, I continue.

  Everything settles down, the music stopping for the night, though the crowd has yet to thin. They’re probably waiting for me to leave.

  A servant weaves her way through the crowd toward me, holding the board with the Mortum Tura on it. Time to drink.

  Before she can get to me, a man crashes into her and grabs the chalice. My hand goes to the hilt of my dagger as he holds the chalice up in the air.

  “We will not bow to a queen who ignores the Kurah’s demands. If she doesn’t give into us, she will perish.”

  Two daggers are out now, my guards moving around me, Julina and Wilric keeping close. Jaku herds me back, which is probably the smartest course of action. If I’m not here, the crowd will be in less trouble. Before I can take more than a few steps, a group of Kurah comes running up behind us, blocking our path out.

  “Please return to your homes in peace,” I call out.

  “We will not back down until you are dead,” a woman says.

  The crowd that’s not richly dressed is fleeing, heading away from the coming fight. My guards and Nash have their swords drawn. The rest of my council isn’t in sight. The girl who brought the Mortum Tura out makes a grab for it, but the man shoves her to the ground.

  “You will not treat others so disrespectfully,” I yell. I hold up a dagger. “Leave now or face my wrath.”

  “We will not retreat.” He holds the chalice high in the air.

  I let my dagger fly and land in his wrist. The chalice falls out of sight.

  The rest of the Kurah rush at us. I say to my guards, “Try to disarm them and not hurt them.”

  None of the attackers even reach me. They come at the guards in big groups, but without the training the guards have, they are quickly disarmed.

  I stalk my way to the nearest one. “Who is your leader?”

  He jumps up, pulls a knife out of his pocket, and tries to stab me with it. I easily block it and take the knife, then hand it to my closest guard without taking my eyes off the man. “Tell me who your leader is now.”

  He has the decency to look scared but still says nothing.

  I snarl in disgust. “Did you think you’d be able to attack me and win? It’s not going to happen. Now, tell me who yo—”

  I’m shoved aside, a body going heavy on me as I smack against the ground. What in all the blades is going on?

  The body on top of me is limp. I push it over to the side to find everything in chaos. I glance down at the body to discover Jaku has an arrow coming out of his shoulder and blood dripping from a wound on his head. He’s out cold.

  There’s no time to help him, though, if I’m to live through this and help others. The best option for Jaku is for me to fight and then give him aid. He saved my life. It’s my chance to return the favor—if he can last that long.

  I jump to my feet, daggers raised. Guards are fighting all around me. Julina and Wilric are closest, but even with all their skills, they are being overwhelmed. A woman with a scar down the right side of her face sneaks past their defenses and comes at me with a dagger of her own.

  I dodge her thrust toward my stomach and dive for her. My blade sinks into her thigh, making her howl with rage. I yank my blade back out, ignoring the wound. She pulls out two more daggers and comes at me despite her injury.

  We move like we’re dancing, dodging in and out. I sway around while I keep close to Jaku to protect him from her. She might not want to do him harm, but I’m not going to chance it. He’s been there for me unlike so many haven’t. The least I can do is protect him.

  There’s the scent of blood in the air. The sound of metal hitting against metal as blades clash. It’s difficult to tell which side is winning and which is losing while focusing in on my opponent.

  While trying not to die.

  She thrusts. I block it, knocking her wrist with my fist and diving in for a hit. Before I make contact, her second blade knocks mine off course.

  “Who is your leader?” I call out to distract her more than to get answers.

  She sneers, throwing her dagger toward my middle. I fling it to the side with my own, leaving her with one less weapon.

  “You’ll never win.” She throws her second dagger while pulling out another from her boot. I block this one as well, sweat beading on my forehead.

  The sounds of battle narrow in. I can do this. I jump into the fight, letting my limbs move with the remembered attack. She fights back, but her gaze loses its confidence. I’m gaining on her, and she knows it.

  “Tell me who your leader is, and we can end this now.” I don’t stop moving as the words come out.

  She blocks my left weapon but misses my right as it cuts into her shoulder. She gasps aloud, cursing my name. Before she can react further, I knock the dagger from her hand and press mine to her neck.

  “Who is your leader?”

  Her eyes water, but her lips press together in a way that says she’s not talking.

  “If you won’t talk, one of your friends my guards are fighting will,” I say.

  Her brows crease, but she doesn’t say a thing. I’ve got to get to Jaku and stop the bleeding—bring a healer to him who knows what to do, not deal with this piece of junk that tried to kill me. Her gaze darts behind me—the only warning I get. I whirl around to find a huge man with his sword lifted above his head, about to bring it down at me.

  I strike like a snake, sneaking in and getting him in the armpit before he can bring his blade down. He howls in pain, but I don’t have time to see how much damage I did. A blade is pressed to the middle of my back.

  “Say goodbye to this world,” the woman behind me says.

  She’s going to stab me in the back. I shove m
y elbow into her stomach and knee the man in front of me in the groin, before turning on her. I snatch the dagger out of her hand and jam the flat side of the blade against the side of her head.

  She grasps her head but doesn’t fall. One of my guards grabs her by the wrists and ties her up while I turn my attention back to the man. He’s on the ground, another of my guards over him.

  I lean over, adding my blade to his neck. “Who is your leader?”

  His bottom lip trembles like a scared child’s. “I—I don’t know.”

  “Who do you take directions from?” I ask.

  “A Kurah in a cloak. That’s all I know. Please, spare me.”

  I curl my lip in disgust. Before I can get a word in, an arrow flies through the air and punctures his lung. I glance toward where the perfect shot came from, only to see the faint flash of a brown cloak disappearing into the night.

  “Guards, after him,” I yell. Two of my guards break off for him, but the rest stay behind. “What are you all doing? Go after that person.”

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Wilric says with a bow. “We can’t leave you unprotected while there are so many attackers out. We need to get you back to the palace.”

  I growl. “What about Jaku?”

  I glance to my side, where he’s lying on the ground, another guard attending him. The arrow is still in his shoulder, but he’s awake. Sort of. Blinking heavily, at least. That’s a good sign.

  “He’ll be taken care of,” Nash says. “He’d want for you to get out of here, away from the danger.”

  Danger. That’s all that ever surrounds me. “Very well. Make certain he’s well cared for. Send a runner for a healer. Grab the prisoners, and let’s go to the palace.” Though I don’t want to leave Jaku, Nash is right. Jaku would want me to. Not only that, but by leaving him, I’m also taking the troubles with me.

  If only I knew where the problems are coming from.

  Chapter 35

  As soon as we enter the palace, I holler at servants to send more guards back for Jaku and the others, then I yell for prisoners to be taken to the dungeons—except for the one who seems most compliant. That one should be taken to a room and interrogated. After that, I send even more guards out to search for the archer or archers. Chances are we lost whoever it was, but I can’t be certain without trying.