by Janeal Falor
When he’s out the door, Inkga asks if I’m ready, and I give her an affirmative reply. She pushes me out into the hall, where my guards are waiting, hands on their swords. Their black outfits and capes as well as the steel vests are a reminder of what Wilric always wore around me. That he gave up his life defending me.
The attacks probably haven’t stopped. I don’t know for certain; I’m not told much anymore, and none have made it all the way. But I can’t imagine that they’ve come to a halt.
I’ll make certain Wilric’s life wasn’t given in vain. I’ll get what I need out of Daros, get rid of the First Queen, and get this country back on track.
If I can live through it all.
A mournful keen vibrates through the air—the howl of pain over a loved one’s death. Wilric’s mother has the perfect voice for a funeral call, low but dynamic. When it’s time to take up the mourning call with her, it feels natural, although I’ve never done so before.
The wordless music moves through me, pulling at my soul and calling to Wilric’s. If only there was a way to speak with him after death, instead of having him hear our broken hearts. I would tell him how grateful I am for all he did for me. That he was more than a guard. Tears fill my eyes, and I blink them back, letting my voice ring louder.
The call goes on for some time, but not nearly as long as Wilric deserves. Voices drop off until his mother, his only remaining family member, is the last one holding the call. Her voice goes high, vibrating through the last notes until it ends as a low whimper.
The Neula comes forward—a woman painted black as death, darker than the darkest cave, wearing a black dress and veil that reaches down to her waist. She stands at the head of the crowd, close to me. I’ve met Neulas before but not at a funeral. No matter how many people I killed, I never attended anyone’s death rites. I didn’t understand until recently that it took several days to prepare the body for this final stage.
“Wilric Tulkon was a beloved son and friend. He will be remembered dearly.” She steps forward until she’s leading Wilric’s remains.
For the first time since I arrived, I bring myself to look at him. There’s no sign of his injury, his torso hidden beneath his guard outfit. He lies on the wooden board that will be his final bed, looking the same as in life, though painted with death. The only things not black on him are his steel vest and ingoula; even his skin has been painted black, the same as the Neula’s skin. The ingoula covers his face like a mask, the pieces coming together to form studded cheeks, with points on his forehead, chin, and nose. The metal gleams in the sunlight against the painted skin.
“Queen Ryn, please grace us.” The Neula points to something behind me.
A servant comes forward, carrying a tray that holds my worst nightmare.
The Mortum Tura.
The blasted drink that got me into this mess in the first place. I start to say no, but before I can get the word out, the First Queen shouts through my mouth, “Give it to me.”
The servant brings the cup to my lips, and I’m helpless as the First Queen swallows, the pounding of her victory dancing around my head.
Everyone stares at me. Now I’m not only an oddity in the chair; I’m glowing. I am thought to be a goddess, when I’m nothing but a weakling.
I turn my gaze to Wilric and focus on him and his sacrifice, while the others look on. The First Queen may have won this round, but I will not let her conquer my spirit.
If only the Mortum Tura made me stronger as it makes the First Queen… But it only feeds her, not me. I wish I knew more about how it worked and why Daros knows what it does.
The Neula turns around, and the men and women who’ve been given the honor of carrying Wilric to his last resting place surround his body. Nash is at Wilric's head, bending down to pick up the board Wilric was laid on.
Once those chosen have lifted Wilric's body, the Neula steps toward the Tomb of Zaco, the first known fallen royal guard. All other guards have been laid to rest in it since, their bones constantly being pushed back as new bodies come. Now it’s Wilric’s turn.
The people are still staring at my chair and my useless body. It would be nice if I could have brought Puneah with me. Her comfort is needed now, but I didn’t want to scare anyone or take attention away from Wilric. She would have been something to ogle at besides me, though.
I shove thoughts of them away as I scan those who matter most this day. Wilric’s mother follows after the Neula.
Inkga rolls my chair forward, but before we turn to trail after the procession, I spot Jem close by through a gap between my guards. Her expression is blank. Stoic. Unyielding to what’s happening around her. Whatever was going on between her and Wilric, she’s closed herself off.
It’s the first I’ve seen of her since he was killed. It’s terrible of me. I should have asked to see her sooner. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to do anything of worth. Anything to help a friend. I want to catch her eye, to give her a look of understanding, but she doesn’t glance my way before Inkga turns my wheelchair.
The walk—a bumpy ride for me—is long, befitting the journey Wilric’s soul will take to reach its final destination. I believe and hope he’s going to a good place, but there’s no way to know for certain. Only the First Queen’s soul didn’t follow along with the rest, wherever souls end up, leaving me to deal with her.
We start in a park in the Medi part of town, near where his mother lived, and wind our way through the streets. The palace grows nearer, but we’re heading to the left side of it, instead of entering its walls.
When we enter the tombs’ row, there are structures almost as far as the eye can see. Even the Poruah have a place to be laid to rest here. Generations of people are buried within these buildings and catacombs. The greatest tomb of all lies before us. The Hall of Queens.
The building is expansive, resting among the tombs of the guards who served their rulers. Not only has it been added onto throughout the ages, but rumor has it that the building goes deep beneath the ground, to provide enough room to house all the queens.
I will end up there some day. Strange. I always thought I’d wind up in a pauper’s tomb, shoved against hundreds of other people, with no paint or ingoula to send me on to the next life. But when my time comes, I’ll be given a funeral fit for the queen that I am. I’d almost rather have a pauper’s rites and save the people the expense.
We continue to the newest Tomb of Guards and enter, following those who carry Wilric's body. Nash’s arms may be growing tired, but it’s an honor worth every ache and pain.
The torches along the way are lit, shining bright against the white stone. The Neula takes up the keening wail, singing Wilric to his final resting place. The sound echoes around and through me, leaving behind the feeling of despair.
One less person I trust in Valcora. One less person I can count on. One less good man gracing our presence.
And I’m to blame for it.
Daros and I.
As the keen reaches a high pitch, I know what I have to do. As soon as the ceremony is finished, I will go to Daros and demand answers. I need to know what he knows about the First Queen. Every little detail. Wilric will not have died in vain. If Daros is to live, he will be put to good purpose, serving until his final breath.
Chapter 2
I sit outside the room where Daros has been kept with numerous guards the last several days. I should have come sooner, but I let despair about my situation overcome me.
No more.
I won’t allow Daros and the First Queen to win, not without a fight.
After steeling myself, I tell them to go in. Nash pushes my chair, and Jaku is by my side with his shoulder in a sling. With their help, I will do this. Daros doesn’t stand a chance under our pressure. We will find out how to take down the First Queen and restore this country to the glory it deserves, instead of letting it be ruled by a tyrant who’s taken over queens since the beginning of her reign.
That’s what I tell myself.
In
reality, I’m scared of him like never before, my insides quivering. What secrets does he hold? What does he know of the First Queen? How is he going to use it against me?
“Are you ready to do this?” Jaku asks before he opens the door.
Not sure. “Past ready. This needs to be taken care of.” Though if I lose the connection to the First Queen, will I lose my access to a world where I can move? Will the nightmares return? So far, despite the First Queen no longer visiting my dreams, my sleep has been heavy and dreamless, but the worry is still there, hovering.
Doesn’t matter. I will do what I’m called for on behalf of my people. Besides, I want to live my life, not be under the rule of someone inside my head.
Jaku opens the door and orders the guards out to wait in the hall with the rest of my escorts—Julina, Eldim, Afet, and several others. None of them have been told what’s going on. Only Jaku, Nash, Daros, and I know about the First Queen and the full extent of her reign of terror.
Once the guards exit, Jaku enters, and Nash pushes my wheelchair inside. The room is dark, lit only by a couple of torches by the door. There’s a bed on one side, a pot in the corner, a small table, and by the far wall is Daros, tied to the chair multiple times. At Jaku’s orders, he’s not to be around me unless he's incapacitated. Orders I agree with, not for my sake, but also for all those around me.
“Finally come to see me?” Daros’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s been talking or screaming for a long period of time.
He was not to be tortured, so he shouldn’t have been screaming, and I can’t imagine what he would be talking about. His dark eyes are sunken under his thick eyebrows, and his cheeks are leaner, as is the rest of him. The bulk of fat and muscle has been replaced with a thinner, weaker Daros. He'd lost weight before his captivity, but I’d never bothered to care why. Part of me wants to ask what happened to him, but I can’t let his appearance distract me. Just because he looks weaker, it doesn’t mean he is.
I wait until the door is closed behind us before saying, “It’s time for you to give us some answers.”
He looks me up and down, taking in my chair before he darts his gaze to Puneah and back. “Seems like you figured out a way to get around. Good for you. Too bad you’ll never throw a dagger again.”
I want to snarl. To poison him with my words, but it’s what he wants—me to defy him and him to berate me, so we can go back to the way things used to be. I won’t allow myself to give into it again.
It doesn’t stop the fear from snaking along my spine or the spool of terror from wounding inside me at being so close to him, even when he’s tied up. “The First Queen—what do you know about her?”
He stares at Puneah. “Is this a fila? I’ve heard they existed, but I was never lucky enough to get my hands on one. Seems as if someone is favoring you.”
He wants to focus on the wrong thing? Fine. I’ll play that game. “Puneah, search him.”
She stalks forward, her sleek movements hard to follow in the low light. Daros has been searched, but I’m looking for something the guards may have missed.
Daros laughs as she moves closer. She growls, the sound reverberating through the air, making him shut up for once. It brings me deep pleasure, but I don’t let it show.
Puneah sniffs him. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch even when she nears his face. Her great fangs could do great damage, but I don’t think she would attack without my word or being in danger. I think she wouldn’t. It’s hard to know for certain, when I’m still getting accustomed to the fact that she doesn’t bite.
She sniffs his entire body before coming back to me. Never once did her tails twist into the sign that would tell me he’s carrying magic on him. So far, it looks like nothing is here.
“Nash, help Puneah search the room. Leave nothing untouched.”
I can’t see them as they go behind me. There’s no sound either, as both of them move silently.
A moment later, Nash says, “Found something.”
He moves to my right and holds out a hand to show me a thick-chained gold necklace with a green gem set in it. Puneah puts her nose to the gem and twists her tails together. “Trying to sneak something past us, is he?”
Daros doesn’t react, save for a slight tightening around his eyes—enough to let me know he’s upset by what we found and that I’m taking it away. Good. Maybe he’ll be more likely to tell me what I need to know now he understands I’m serious.
“What does the necklace do?” I ask.
“What makes you think it’s anything more than simple jewelry?” His look is innocent, but I know better.
I’m not about to admit what Puneah can do, even if he’s guessed it. The necklace will have to wait until more immediate things are dealt with.
“You don't wish to share? No matter. We’ll put it somewhere for safe keeping.” To Venda or the treasury, probably. Without knowing what it does, there’s no saying that it would be safe to wear, and I don’t trust Daros enough to keep it in his presence.
What am I thinking? I don’t trust him at all.
“What do you know about the First Queen?” I wish I could stand. Get rid of this weak sensation. I’d feel much more imposing if I was taller than him. And if I need anything, it’s the chance to gain the upper hand.
The corners of his lips twitch upward. “Androlla has been bothering you, has she?”
“Androlla?”
His grin widens. “I see she hasn’t deigned to tell you her name.”
There’s a compression on my chest, like someone's taken a hammer to it. The First Queen’s presence is near. A rightness hums about that name being hers. I glance at Jaku, and then Nash. “I believe he’s telling the truth.”
Nash hasn’t taken his gaze off Daros since he returned to my side, and that doesn’t change now. His hand is white on the hilt of his sword. What he’s been through has affected him more deeply than I wanted to admit.
He’s scared, like I am.
Scared of a frail man, tied to a chair.
“What else do you know about Androlla?” Nash asks.
“That’s Queen Androlla.” The retort rolls off my tongue before I know what’s happening. A shiver of fear crawls over me.
Those were not my words.
Nash looks at me, but Jaku keeps an eye on Daros. I clench my jaw, wishing I could have kept the statement in. It’s bad enough I have no control over my body. Now I can’t even control what I say.
Where’s a throwing dagger when I need one? Not that I could use it.
I shake my head and force my gaze back onto Daros. “What do you know about her?”
“I know she’s taking you over already. Faster than usual, but then, you’re probably the biggest threat she’s faced.”
“Why am I a threat? I can’t move. All she has to do is wait for the next queen, and she’ll control them.”
“Ah, but you know about her. What’s more, even before that, you were strong-willed. Always have been. I assume she’s taking control because you aren’t as easily swayed.”
He swayed me to kill people more effortlessly than I’d like to think. “How do I get her out of my head?”
“You could always try to kill yourself again.”
Nash jumps forward, swinging his arm. He just stops himself from punching Daros in the face. “You will not speak to Queen Ryn that way.”
“Seeing how I’m the only one who knows what she needs to do, I’ll speak to her any way I like.” Daros’s voice is gleeful.
I want to tell Nash it’s all right, but I won’t do so in front of Daros. I don’t want him to know he’s getting to me. That his stinging words met their mark. Before Nash can speak or hit Daros, I say, “What can I do to get her out of my head without her killing me and without her doing any harm to the country?”
“That’s the right question to ask.”
When he says nothing further, Nash prompts, “Well? What can we do?”
“You believe I’m going to give the information to h
er? That I’ll hand over every detail she needs to get rid of Androlla, without anything in return, so she’s then free to have me executed? I think not.”
Despite my promise not to kill again—one I’ve unfortunately broken but still strive toward—I wish to do him in right here, right now. Lucky for him, I don’t have the physical ability to. “What do you want?” I ask.
He takes his time responding, letting his gaze bore into mine. “Why, my freedom, of course. For starters. You’ll find my list of requests quite extensive.”
“No.” The single syllable is out quicker than a blink.
“Pity. I’ll have to watch you lose yourself while the country turns back into what Androlla wants. I can do so from the comfort of my very own cell. And who knows? Maybe when she gets back into power, she’ll have use for my particular skill set.”
“You’ll be lucky if she lets you live, if you know what you say you do.” Jaku’s words of reason are comforting after Daros’s statement.
“He’s right. The First Queen won’t let you live if you know what you say you do. I can feel her hatred toward you while she plots against you.”
He shrugs, or tries to. The way his skin whitens against the bindings as he tugs at them indicates he’s having a difficult time doing much of anything, yet that smug smirk won’t leave his face. “Doesn’t matter to me. You kill me, she kills me—either way I’m dead. If you want help, on the other hand, I’d be willing to give it to you. For a price.”
And that’s what we come back to. I’m not inclined to let a madman loose for the chance he knows something that might save me. Especially not one whose cruelty I know so well. “Not happening.”
“Guess you’re stuck with her in your head, then. That is, of course, until you are stuck in her head. I wonder if you’ll still be there, watching all she does through you, or if you’ll disappear completely.”
My throat thickens, making it difficult to swallow. Neither option is acceptable, but I can’t let Daros go free. There has to be a way to compromise. A way for us both to get what we want. Well… me more than him.
