Death's Queen (The Complete Series)

by Janeal Falor

  “It was worth a try. It will be so much easier for you if you let me in. Allow me take care of all your worries.”

  “I can handle my own worries—thank you very much.”

  She laughs her tinkling laugh. It grates on me, so I break into a run. She pops in and out of my line of sight and then sits down on the side, watching me.

  Everything blurs out as I feel each muscle in my body tense and move. I’m strong, as I should be, but realizing it won’t last past the dream drains me. I try not to think about it, but the thought keeps coming to me.

  “I can offer you escape from a body that no longer works.”

  It’s tempting, but no.

  Besides, I get a little better every day.

  I keep going, moving on and on.

  “You think your magic will work against me? You know nothing.”

  Is she right? Are we going in the wrong direction? “You are the one who knows nothing,” I say. “You’ve been stuck in other people’s bodies for a thousand years. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to live.”

  She appears, standing before me. I can’t stop myself; I knock into her and tumble to the ground, while she manages to stay upright.

  She towers over me, seeming infinitely bigger than she is. “I know more about what it’s like to live than you ever will.” She reaches down to help me up, but I ignore it. “You’ll find I can make even your dreams miserable if you don’t cooperate with me.”

  I haul myself off the ground, keeping my mind blank.

  “I know you’re angry. I feel it rolling off you.” She comes closer, until her mouth is next to my ear, and whispers, “I’ve won. Just give into me. I’ll make your life easier. More pleasant. Together, we can do so much.”

  I whip around, getting some space in the process. “You mean like you killing me, since my body is no longer useful to you? No, thanks.”

  “Perhaps I was hasty to want you killed. We can still accomplish a lot from your position.”

  “We both know you’re lying. You want a healthy body, so you have as much freedom as possible.”

  She shrugs. “Think what you like, but you’ll find it much less painful to cooperate with me than work against me. I can make your waking hours a living nightmare if you’re not careful.”

  They already are. My body’s been taken from me. Nash has been taken from me. My country is fighting me.

  I clamp down on those thoughts, but it’s too late.

  “That’s right. You do have things rough. Let me ease your burden.”

  “By taking over my life? Not happening.”

  “You’ll wish you’d taken me up on my offer.”

  I refuse to give into her. Ever.

  Chapter 19

  “That is one way to enchant an object to heal someone—yes,” Venda says. We’re in my sitting room, with Jaku and Inkga. “But you must have lots of energy to cast it, and it’s not the most efficient charm.”

  Great. Lied to again. Or maybe Daros doesn’t know better. Either way, I’m grateful Venda’s here to help. “What would you have me do?”

  She looks down at the pile of ingredients Inkga collected at my request. I don’t know how she managed to get them all on such short notice. Just one of the advantages of having her on my side.

  “To these we need to add red weed and take away the cream.” Venda leans back as she finishes looking over the pile.

  “I’ll fetch it right away,” Inkga says. “I know where the red weed is, but it may take some time to collect.”

  Red weed is difficult to find, but if she knows where to find it, it would speed things up. “Thank you, Inkga,” I say. “Be sure to take a guard with you.”

  “Ryn, I travel the grounds by myself all the time.”

  “Be cautious, then.” Though I wish she would take a guard.

  “I will.” She gives a little wave and is out the door.

  I focus on Venda. I know little about her, other than that she’s from Faner and an assassin. “Did you leave any family behind in Faner?”

  She searches my eyes, as if looking for something. Whatever it is, she must find it because she says, “Assassins are discouraged from having a family.”

  “Even parents?”

  “We have them, but we are turned over to the assassins’ guild when we are twelve, after showing some of the skills it takes to be in the profession.” Her voice is matter of fact, but it reminds me too much of my being sent to Daros and growing up without parents.

  “I can tell what you’re thinking,” she says. “It is different than what you went through with Daros. Yes, we are pushed, but not to the point of breaking. Our leaders can be harsh at times, but we have others in our lives, like the healers, who are kind and attentive.”

  What would that have been like? “Forgive me if this is too personal, but do you have friends?”

  “Others in the guild, yes, but we are encouraged not to let those ties grow too close. If we get too close to someone, it’s dangerous for both them and us.”

  So her life is not unlike my own, though I’ve found a way to cheat past some of the cards life dealt me. “How did you get assigned to bring me Puneah?”

  The animal in question must hear her name because she comes padding out of my bedroom to rest her head on my lap and look up at me with those cat-like eyes.

  “You have created a true bond with your fila,” Venda says.

  “What does that mean?”

  “No one knows exactly. I do know she will give her life for you, as you’ve seen. She considers you an ally. Perhaps a friend.”

  I stroke her fur, not minding the concentration it takes to move my hand that much. She purrs—a deep, rumbling sound.

  “Definitely a bond.” Venda sits back and watches us. “As to your question, I am highly skilled at what I do. My queen sent me because I’d be able to handle myself if I got myself in a tricky situation.”

  “And yet, here you are, putting yourself in dangerous situations to save my life.”

  “There’s no point in having skills if I don’t use them.”

  That gives me something to ponder while we wait for Inkga’s return.

  Once she comes back with the two other ingredients, we get to work.

  Venda pulls out a mortar and pestle.

  “Where did you get that?” Inkga asks.

  “From my country.”

  “No. I mean you don’t have a bag with you, and I didn’t see it earlier. How did you carry it here?”

  “In the folds of my dress.”

  “Isn't it heavy?”

  She shrugs. “I've brought it several times with me in case we needed it.”

  “And what do we need it for?”

  “Instead of grinding things on the bandages, we will use this. It works well to mix what we need for the healing spell.”

  As she sets it down and arranges items on the table, I ask, “Will this spell heal anything?”

  She lifts her gaze to me, eyes sad. “No. Only minor things. There are few who can enchant objects to heal major wounds.”

  “Why?” Inkga asks. “Why only a few? Why can’t I do it?”

  “Because it takes rare ingredients, but that can be overcome. More than that, it takes so much of yourself that few are willing to give, even when they think they are. Also, it leaves you weakened for months, unable to cast other spells or do much for yourself.”

  I know what that’s like.

  Inkga scowls.

  Venda pulls together a small amount of the red weed, basil, pollen from a kew tree, and wheat into the mortar. “The honey is for the end. Also, this spell will make an enchanted item that will only work at casting spells for the caster.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because it is attuned with your soul.”

  She stands and brings the mortar and pestle to me.

  “Is that how you stopped the poison from killing me?”

  “It is.”

  “Then why couldn’t it save Wilric?” />
  Her expression is down turned as she stops in front of me. “He was too far gone.”

  I nod, though I want to argue. What use would it do? It can’t bring him back any more than she could save him before.

  She places the mortar in one of my hands and the pestle in the other and helps me use them. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to press as hard as is needed for this enchantment to work, but we’ll try. As you work the mixture, say lew fa tee ro.”

  “Right.” That doesn’t sound ridiculous.

  “If you’re not going to take it seriously, it won’t work.” Her voice is stern.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She studies me before continuing. “It means to heal the wound. It is an old spell, used by many generations to heal those who are unhealthy.”

  Being able to do such a thing would be a vast improvement. I do need to believe more.

  I say the ancient words as I push my hand, moving it around a little. It takes some time to get the mixture as good as Venda wants it. By the time we are finished, my hands and arms are exhausted. I let them rest in my lap, where Puneah nuzzles them.

  “Good,” Venda says. “Now you must rub it into the object you want to use, chanting the same words. It will take more of a pull than your other enchantments so far. Your instinct is going to be to yank it back, to stop it from happening, but you must let it.”

  “I have a question,” Inkga says. “Why do you have to chant while you do these things?”

  “The chant isn’t as important as it is to concentrate. You will find different people use different chants for the same spell. It’s a process to help you focus on the magic.” Venda puts a slim bracelet in my hand. “This is what you will enchant. Then you will be able to wear it and use it whenever you need.”

  I look more closely at the item. It’s beautiful. An open circle of silver metal that fits around my wrist. In the center, a flower is carved. It matches my ring. “Where did you get this?”

  “After seeing how you wear the ring all the time, I decided you should have something to go with it. I commissioned it, and it was finished yesterday. This should be the perfect spell for it.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t have to do that. It’s a kindness I’ve been shown so little of in my life. I’m not sure what to do with it.

  Shillian pops into my head. Would she like it? Think it’s befitting a royal to wear? I shake away my thoughts. My mother betrayed me almost as much as my father did. She may not have literally stabbed me in the back, like he did, to erase his debts, but she supported his being here.

  Still, I did allow her to live in the palace. How much is she responsible for something she didn’t know was going on?

  Venda slides the mixture out of the mortar and onto the bracelet, and adds the honey when she’s finished. “Rub that in and chant. Let the magic guide you to give part of yourself to it. It will not hurt, but it will be uncomfortable.”

  “Won’t this ruin the bracelet?” I ask.

  “It washes off fine after the spell has been cast.”

  All right. No more delaying. I think of everything she’s said and begin my chant while using my aching fingers to rub the mixture onto the bracelet. Nothing happens, but I expected that from the previous enchantments we’ve done. I continue rubbing, focusing, and chanting until there’s a tug inside me. Unlike before, it’s rough, almost brutal in its hurry to get at me.

  I stop. “What was that?”

  “That was the pull on your magic. You think about what that felt like, and I’ll help Inkga give it a try.”

  The magic was bigger than I expected. More insistent. How do I give control over to that? This is going to take longer than the time I have.

  Chapter 20

  Time passes too slow and too fast all at once. There are so many expectations of me. I can’t keep up with them all. I have council meetings, meetings with my ladies-in-waiting, reading, and filling out papers, all while I continue to do what I can to gain physical and magical strength.

  None of it is going well.

  And the whole time, not a word from Nash. Yesterday, I sent a note to his mother, hoping she wouldn’t mind the intrusion.

  Lunch just finished up, and I’m waiting for my council meeting. We’ll probably go over more things the councilors are bickering over—things that don’t matter. Maybe they’d matter more if I didn’t have the weight of the First Queen on me.

  “You look like there is a heavy burden on you,” Venda says as she enters my sitting room.

  I give her a smile, but it feels tight. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

  “I thought I would spend some time with you.” Her gaze flits to Afet and Eldim.

  The two need a break. They’ve been alternating standing guard over me with Jaku, and I’m afraid it’s too much. No matter what I say, though, they tell me they’re fine.

  Is there more than what she’s saying? “That’s kind of you.” It gets frustrating, these little in-between moments I have that I usually spend by myself, unable to do anything except exercise my hands.

  She sits on a chair across from me. “How are you?”

  Is she serious? “I’m fine.”

  “You can be honest with me.”

  Frustrated that I can’t defeat the First Queen. “I wish I could do that thing we were practicing earlier.” I don’t dare say magic in front of Eldim and Afet. Though I can probably trust them, I don’t want to chance scaring them off.

  “I know. It will come with time. Your strength will increase, and you will benefit from that.”

  Androlla will take over before then. Though she has left me alone the past several days, even in my dreams, it makes me more nervous than if she was bothering me. It’s like she’s gathering her power for something big.

  I hold my head high. No matter what it is, I won’t let her.

  “I have a gift for you,” Venda says, snagging my attention back to her.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “But I wanted to. It seems well suited to you. I should have given it to you a while ago.” She pulls a small object out of her pocket. It’s a rectangular box, made of dark wood.

  “What is it?”

  “Something that will give you a little independence.” She places it in my hand and shows me two small protrusions sticking out of the sides. “If you hold both of these down at the same time, it will shoot a dart laced with a quick-acting poison.”

  I look at the device with new appreciation. “It can do that?”

  “Of course. And it has five darts loaded in it, so after you shoot one, another will take its place. You’ll have to count to three for the mechanism to have time to move.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Thank you will suffice.” She stands and moves out of the way. “Go ahead and aim it at the chair, to make sure you can use it, then press those two buttons at the same time.”

  I hold the box between my thumb and middle finger, my pointer finger on top. A week ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do that. Once I feel both parts that stick out, I press them down, aiming for the chair. A thrill goes through me as a dart goes flying out of the box and lands dead-center in the chair. “Thank you. More than words can express, thank you. This will help so much. The darts are so little, though.”

  “They’ll feel like a prick. It’s made to be light and easy, but that little prick will put the poison in your opponent’s blood stream.”

  “What will the poison do?” I don’t want to accidentally kill someone.

  “One dart will knock them out. Two to three darts will do so more quickly, and they’ll be quite sick when they come around. Four will put them in a coma for days, and five will kill them.”

  “Five is death. Got it.” And will be very careful with that box. “This is a gift like I never expected.”

  “I hope it gives you some peace of mind. Just make certain you’re willing to knock out and possibly kill whoever you’re aiming a
t when you use it.”

  Daros flashes into my mind, but I don’t want to kill him. Not only does he have the information I need, but I am over that need. His death isn’t worth sullying my life. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man who can find no joy except to play with others’ lives. After all this is over, I hope to have him executed, not out of vengeance, but for the safety of others. I don’t know if that’ll be possible, though, given the pardon he had me sign.

  “I will be careful to only aim it at enemies.”

  “Good. Now we eat.”

  “I had lunch,” I say confused at her words.

  “Yes, but you have not had lychee.”

  “What is that?”

  She pulls a little red sphere full of tiny bumps out of her pocket. “It is a fruit from my country, which is where your gift came from. I had a package arrive today. You will find this fruit better fresh in Faner, but it is still good enough that I wish to share with you and your guards.” She peels the red skin off to reveal an almost translucent whitish fruit beneath it. She cuts it in half with her fingers and pulls out a tiny pit. “It is ready now. If you will permit me?”

  She wants to feed me since I can’t bring my hand to my mouth. I’m more curious than embarrassed. “Of course.”

  She places the fruit between my open lips. It’s delicious. A light, almost floral flavor. “I like it.”

  “I thought you would.” She throws one each to Afet and Eldim and shows them how to open them before feeding me another.

  “They are delightful,” I say. “Thank you for sharing with us.”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Eldim says.

  “That’s some good fruit,” Afet adds. “Though we probably shouldn’t be eating on duty.”

  She waves a hand. “Ryn is safe now. She has her dart shooter. Everything will be fine.”

  If only my dart shooter really could make everything fine.

  Inkga enters the room. “I have your mail for the day.”

  “If you will excuse me, I shall be going,” Venda says.

  “You don’t have to leave on my account,” Inkga replies.