The Archer Queen

by Blake, Nova

  It took two days, and I don't think I looked into the water even once after the siren had pulled me in. I didn't go near the railing, not until the court was in sight.

  The river narrowed slightly and diverged in two directions. The larger curve went to the sea, the smaller to the lakes where the court was. I watched in fascination as we approached. The houses here were built on stilts; not tall, like the Court of Leaves, but just enough to prevent them from being washed out in the event of flooding. I couldn't tell from looking at them which was the royal dwelling, or if there even was one. Some of the houses were perched above the lake, and others along the edges, bridges connecting them together.

  More damn bridges over things.

  No, I needed to be more open minded. I wanted to see more, to travel, and I was getting to do that now. Even if it was under a time pressure. I'd never realized until we set out that I was a little averse to heights. And this trip was certainly challenging that position.

  Among other things.

  The structures were amazing, and I could see more details as we got closer, the way branches seemed to have been woven together to create the walls, the roofs. The windows were tinted in a range of colors, casting lovely patterns and swirl across the glistening surface of the lake.

  Night was coming, and I was eager to be on land, or bridge, or anywhere that wasn't this boat.

  "Who goes there?" a voice called out. I looked towards the sound to find two men standing guard at a gate so low to the water I hadn't noticed it.

  "We come from the Court of Leaves. I am Farrow, son of Levon, come to visit my friend Killian, and these are my companions." Farrow moved to the front of the boat so that the guard could see him more clearly. "Did you know that the sirens are north of here now? They are braving further afield. It's important we see Killian and the queen to come up with a plan."

  "Your highness." The guard dipped his head, and Farrow turned and winked at me over his shoulder, as though he thought the gesture was ridiculous. The other guard moved into position, waiting for the first so that they could move the gate. It made a low vibration in the water, and I glanced a look over the side to find a strange green glow emanating from the lake within.

  "That's to keep the entrance safe," the captain said. "Keeps the sirens out, but lets the fish in."

  "Very clever," I said, still looking into the water. I didn't see any sirens, or fish, for that matter, but I really wanted to know more about the green and the way each court did things, how they protected their people, and what other dangers were out there that I didn't know about.

  Because there was so much that I didn't know.

  So much I was sure Anya didn't know either. Had she ventured outside our court recently? I couldn't recall her ever doing so and now that I was seeing more, I had to wonder whether she knew enough to serve our queendom. She could be the True Queen, but what good would that be if she didn't know what the people needed? Where her magic could do the most good.

  Or was simply having a True Queen the only thing necessary to ensure order was restored and we could be prosperous again?

  There was too much I didn't know, too much that made me uncomfortable. I knew that nothing I saw out here would fade from my memory though and that no matter what happened I would have a burning need to make a difference.

  13

  Jaelyn

  When we finally managed to get off the boat, Farrow said farewell to the crew and led us through nearly empty streets to an inn. I didn't know why he wouldn't just take us to the court and present us to his friend, but he refused to tell me anything until we were safely in our room.

  One room. For the three of us.

  I was just grateful there was a bathtub and hot water available because I really needed to get clean, and I didn't give a crap about who was going to see me naked. I turned the water on, and then faced Farrow with my hands on my hips.

  "What the hell is going on?" I hissed, keeping my volume down so as not to annoy whoever was in the room next door. The fact he wouldn’t just come straight out and tell me was irritating, and I was itchy and hungry and generally feeling foul.

  "What do you mean?" Farrow cocked his head. "We are spending the night in an inn, like most travelers would."

  "We aren't most travelers," I asserted. "I thought you had an in at the castle?"

  "The food is good here," Farrow said, glancing at the door. "Some will be delivered soon."

  "Good. I'm ravenous." Thomas flopped back onto the bed but I shooed him off.

  "Not until you're clean," I said. "And take your boots off. Thomas!" I smacked him on the arm. "I know you weren't raised in a barn."

  "But I wasn't raised in a castle either. You're already feeling more queenly, I guess."

  I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. "No. I just want to sleep in a clean bed after a few days on a damn boat. Is that too much to ask for?"

  "No, it isn't," he said, his tone apologetic. "I'm just tired. Sorry, Jae."

  "I'm sorry too. This is all…" Thomas wrapped his arms around me.

  "I know."

  Those two words were all I needed to hear. He got it. He got me.

  "I'm sorry too, I just didn't want to announce ourselves yet," Farrow said. "The less she knows, the better."

  "She?" I asked, turning to look at Farrow.

  "The queen. I haven't had it confirmed yet but I would put a hefty wager on her declaring that she has been Marked." Farrow frowned.

  "Perhaps she is," I said. My lips felt dry, like they might crack.

  "Perhaps." Farrow narrowed his eyes at me. "Do you know someone else who is?"

  I swallowed hard. I didn't want to have this conversation. I didn't want to admit to him that I had no intention of being the True Queen – not after he had made it so easy for me to get the quiver.

  Not after the way he had kissed me. Cared for me.

  "Princess Anya," I admitted. "She is a true descendent of—"

  "So is the queen of Court of Lakes. It means nothing." Farrow's voice was fiercer than I'd heard it before.

  I looked him in the face then, pleading with him to understand. "I'm not cut out to be a queen, Farrow. I'm just a Hunter."

  He gripped me by the shoulders and leaned down so that his face was mere inches from mine.

  "You are not just anything. You were Marked for a reason. You have magic in you, I've felt it." His voice was quiet now, but still held that firmness.

  "I've felt it too," Thomas said from behind me. "And I saw what you did to Orla. You saved her."

  "I didn't—"

  He stepped closer to me, so I was almost sandwiched between them. "Don't lie. Not to me. Not ever. Jae, you're special." Thomas placed a hand at my waist and I wanted to lean into it, give into his soft words.

  "You could be queen," Farrow said.

  And those words made my anger flare, burning at my core.

  "I don't want to be queen!" I spat the words out, my eyes blazing. Farrow stepped back from me in shock. "I don't care if I was chosen or Marked. This isn't what I want."

  "What do you want?" Farrow asked. "Do you even know?"

  His second question was like a punch to my stomach, with more force than I could have imagined. Hot tears threatened to spill but I swallowed them back.

  I would not cry.

  But I would run.

  * * *

  It was dark. So dark.

  I hadn't stopped to grab my coat so the cool night air bit into my skin, cut my cheeks; but I prefered this chill to the sting of the words Farrow had flung at me.

  How dare he?

  He didn't even know me.

  I huffed out a breath, cupping my hands to catch the warmth as I looked around the town.

  I'd paid no attention to where I had been running, and everything about this court was so new to me. Yet… I could just make out the subtle lap of water against the shores of the lake, and perhaps if I could find my way there, I'd be able to figure out how to get back to the inn
.

  When I was ready to go back.

  I walked towards the sound, down roads, past alleys, following the soft susurration. It was a siren call of its own, luring me on, a balm to my soul. I needed to fill the void in my heart with something. But when I made my way to the lake, I couldn't bring myself to walk to the shore; the vivid memory of the siren in the water lashed into my brain and sent me scurrying away again.

  And yet…

  There was a bridge nearby, spanning out across the water. High enough that there was no way anything could drag me under the surface.

  A shudder tore through me at the thought of that pale skin, those sharp teeth, the nails that had raked me.

  I stepped onto the bridge and sat down, dangling my feet over the edge. I was high enough up that nothing would be able to leap from the water and grab me. At least, I hoped I was.

  Now that I was still though, Farrow's words came back to me.

  Do you even know what you want?

  I groaned, because I didn't. Not really. I said I didn't want to be queen, but that wasn't an answer for what I did want. I wanted to travel; and I was. I wanted love; and I had that. Was there anything more, or was this enough? Did I want to be a hunter for the rest of my life, providing food for Anya and her ilk?

  It really hit me then how shallow my life was, how focused I managed to keep on the small mundane actions of life. Ever since my father had died, I'd reverted to just taking life a day at a time, not getting too far ahead of myself. Hell, I'd even been afraid of taking my relationship with Thomas from friends to lovers because it felt like that would rock the boat too much. Require too much thinking or consideration.

  Would create too much change.

  It had only been when change was forced upon me that I'd acted.

  I growled at myself. This was ridiculous, and I was a joke. For all my talk in the past of wanting to travel, I'd done literally nothing to further that goal and had no plan for the future. Just a list of what I didn't want.

  "So, what do you want, Jaelyn?" I asked myself. My words seemed to hang in the air and I pressed my eyes closed trying to summon up some image of the future. I wanted Thomas, and Farrow, and who knew, there might be more men in my future. So, I wanted love. But what else? What was beyond that?

  What had I dreamed of as a child, or even just a few years ago, before my father had died?

  I loved the forest. I did love the hunt. I loved nature and peace and dancing and joy. I just wanted to be happy, but I didn't even know what would bring that.

  Everything about this mission had shown me that there was more to the world, that I had closed myself off and rejected life.

  It was time to stop. Stop running from the future, stop fearing thinking about the past. Stop just living for today.

  Stop living to avoid things, and find things to live for.

  I stood up, feeling the fire of rightness burning through my body. I didn't need to know exactly what I wanted right this minute, but I'd keep my eyes open, listen to my mind, my body, and I would find a purpose.

  I strode off that bridge feeling better, even if I wasn't able to give Farrow a definitive answer. And then I realized that I still had no damn idea where I was or how to get back to the inn.

  Dammit.

  No, I could do this. I knew I could. We had a connection, my men and I. We’d been Marked. I had magic in my veins. I stepped onto the land again and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply of the chilly air. And then I exhaled, sending my hunter senses out, drawing on the magic, hoping I could bend it to my use.

  There was a tug, a sharp jolt that made me step forward with a gasp. It was working! I walked on, following the guiding sense like a trail in the woods but instead of paw and hoof prints, broken branches and sound, I was following a trail of magic. My feet moved with more confidence now, as though they knew the path and I sighed in relief, feeling a charge of power as I moved deeper into the town.

  None of these roads looked familiar, but I trusted that I would get to where I needed to be.

  There were even fewer people on the streets now, but I didn't feel nervous or worried. I was wrapped in the cocoon of the Chiron’s magic, it gave me strength and strangely, warmed me physically as well. The night air had lost its impact on me and some of the tension seeped from my shoulders.

  A shrill cry came from an alley ahead and my heart beat harder, my hunter senses going into overdrive.

  Someone was in trouble.

  I ran on soft feet towards the entrance of the alley and peered around the corner. There was no lighting here, but the moon was full and it cast enough illumination to see that a woman was pressed against the wall, a large dark shape crushing her.

  My core clenched. So many women knew the feeling of unwanted hands, and the sight of this recalled all the illicit, unasked for touches that had been inflicted on me throughout my life.

  No one deserved to be treated this way.

  Without another thought I drew my dagger from its sheath and stalked towards the pair. The man was so focused on the woman that he didn't notice my approach, not until I pressed the tip of the blade against his throat hard enough to draw a drop of blood. He froze and looked down at me.

  "Don't move," I said. "No, actually, do move. Step away from her."

  He cautiously stepped backwards and I moved with him, making sure to keep my knife in place. I didn't look at the woman though I could feel some of the tension seep from her as he moved to the other side of the alley.

  "What gives you the right to take what isn't yours?" I asked, hissing the words at him.

  "I…"

  "Have no fucking excuse. You're lucky I don't cut your balls off."

  He paled, but then his anger flared and he leaned forward. My blade sank a little deeper into his throat. I didn't want to kill him, but I wouldn't let him hurt her, or me.

  "You're a pretty little thing," he whispered. "And I like a little pain." His words made me shiver, but a flare of heat washed through me and I clenched my jaw.

  "Good," I replied, and with my other hand I reached out and grabbed him by the crotch, twisting his most sensitive parts as hard as I could.

  With a scream, he doubled over. I released my grip on him and slid the blade of my knife along the side of his neck as he fell. Not deep enough to kill him, but enough that he would have a scar for the rest of his life. A reminder.

  "You fucking bitch. I'm going to get you for this," he roared, his voice twisted by anger and rage.

  "No. You're not." I stepped back, swung my leg, and kicked him hard in the head. His skull went back and smacked into the wall behind him and then he slumped all the way to the ground, motionless.

  "Wow," the woman behind me exhaled the word. I turned to face her, taking in the bruising that was forming around her eye, the rips in her clothing.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, approaching her carefully. I might have saved her, but she didn't know me.

  "I am now. I…" Her eyes traveled from the man and then back to me. "I can't believe you helped me."

  I frowned. "I couldn't do nothing. You were in trouble."

  She huffed out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, that doesn't mean much around here."

  "What do you mean?" I shook my head. I was so out of my depth here. So naive when it came to life outside my court.

  "The Watchers have gone and people are doing whatever they want. It's not safe," she said. Her posture had relaxed now, and she stepped away from the wall. "I was only out because I needed to get some medicine for my son. He's got a fever."

  My heart clenched. She was trying so hard to be a good mother, and it had got her attacked.

  "Can I walk you home?" I asked. "I might be able to help your son," I added, thinking about to the way I'd been able to heal Orla.

  "Are you sure? You've already done so much for me." She glanced over my shoulder at the man on the ground. I turned to look at him, and wished that I could do more, but if the Watchers were gone from this place, then there was nothing.
I couldn't bring myself to take his life, though part of me was sorely tempted to cut him where it would hurt the most.

  "I'm sure. I'd hate to think I saved you from this brute, only to have something else happen to you. Come on." I nodded towards the end of the alley, and she led the way through the streets and to the edge of town, where she ushered me into a small house. A boy lay on a mattress by the fire. He'd cast off his blankets and sweat beaded his face.

  The woman rushed to his side and I closed the door behind me. She mopped his brow with a cloth, and then scooped hot water from the pot over the fire into a cup, where she began to mix herbs from the small bag she'd acquired. The scent was rich and tangy, it filled my nose but I couldn't figure out what she had put in; herbs and healing had never been areas of expertise for me.

  While she worked, I moved to the boy, knelt by his side and stroked his hair back from his face, using the wet cloth his mother had set aside to mop away more sweat.

  "Poor boy," I said quietly. "What caused this?"

  "I don't know," the woman said. "He wasn't eating today, and then he got dizzy and then this…"

  I turned his arms over, looking for a rash or something, but there was no obvious cause. I really wished I'd paid more attention to my mother, who despite being a lady in good standing, had helped out in the infirmary at home. She would do much better here than I. And yet…

  She didn't have magic on her side.

  "Can you lift his head a bit?" the woman asked. "So I can tip this down his throat."

  "Of course," I said, moving so that I could get my arms under him. He was a dead weight, so pale and hot and young. I got him into a good position and his mother opened his mouth and slowly tipped the liquid in. The young boy gasped, spitting some of the medicine out, but then he started to swallow and drank the rest of it. Still, his eyes never opened.

  I laid him back down on the bed and his mother drew the blanket up to cover his body. She looked at him with such worried eyes and I knew I had to do something, so I stretched my hand out and placed it on his brow. I closed my eyes, trying to summon the magic I knew I had. My arrow tingled and the fire stretched down to my fingers, finding the flame in him and then drawing it out.