The Thorn Queen

by Elise Holland

“I know Piam but look—do you see that speck in the distance? What is that?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. Oh—hang on, I do see it! It looks like. . . a giant prism or something—”

  As he trailed off, the crowd became a sea of upturned faces as everyone craned their necks to see what held the royals’ attention.

  “What’s that?” someone screamed, pointing toward the sky.

  “It’s a dragon!” another voice yelled. “Run for it!”

  Within seconds, the crowd erupted into a mass of shrieks and flailing limbs as people dashed in all directions, tripping over and barreling into each other. Those that ran at the royals got shoved back from the guards.

  “Order!” they roared. “Order!”

  No one paid them any notice. Prince Piam grabbed the megaphone from the queen.

  “Everyone calm down! Stay where you are! It is not a dragon. There is no need to panic. I repeat—”

  A low whining noise filled the air. Piam snapped up his head just in time to see the enormous prism-like object shoot straight toward him and his mother.

  “Yaaaahhhhh!” he yelled, throwing himself before Queen Emery. Huge chunks of ice hurtled through the air as the object smashed into the frozen lake. Piam grunted, flying forward as one of the chunks thudded into his back.

  “Piam!” Queen Emery screamed and rushed toward him.

  Piam pushed himself to his feet, grimacing.

  “I’m fine. Stay back. You—” he jabbed his finger at a mounted guard. “Come with me.”

  Drawing his sword, Piam approached the lake. Light streamed off the gigantic, sparkling object wedged into the broken ice. He and the guard halted in their tracks as three blurry shapes and what looked like a tall, thin tree emerged from the dazzling blaze. Prince Piam blinked as they came into focus.

  “Hold it right there! Identify yourselves!”

  The diamond chariot had wasted no time in getting Meylyne, Blue, Grimorex and Hope to the Wishing Well. When the well came into view, the chariot pointed its nose down and hurtled toward it like a comet. Pulling up at the last minute did not save them from skidding into the lake, and everyone landed on Grimorex amidst a cloud of ice shards.

  “Sweet Trisdyan have mercy,” Grimorex groaned, pushing Hope off his stomach.

  “Come on! We’ve no time to waste!” Blue cried, bounding off the chariot.

  Grimacing, Meylyne clung to Hope for support as they stumbled after Blue. She had regained some of her energy, but she still felt like someone had pummeled her with rocks.

  Blue waited for them to catch up.

  “Who’s that?” he growled, pointing ahead at two figures that had emerged from the icy rubble. Both wore the Cardinal House uniform of turquoise and gold. One was waving his sword and bellowing. Meylyne caught her breath as she recognized him.

  Prince Piam! The last time she’d seen him he had been squashed underneath her.

  “That Prince Piam,” Hope said.

  “Oh right. The one Meylyne flattened. This should go well.” Blue rested his hand on the hilt of his sword “What’s he saying?”

  Meylyne shook her head. It was impossible to tell. Her ears still rang from the flight and the shrieking, fleeing crowd didn’t help.

  Prince Piam inched closer.

  “You have three seconds to state your purpose before I set my guards on you!” Piam roared.

  This time the friends understood what he said. A line of guards clambered over the chunks of ice. From what Meylyne could see, there were about fifty of them. Bile rose in her throat.

  “It’s me, Meylyne!” she rasped, her voice weak and wobbly. “Please—you must listen to us! This—”

  “Meylyne? The one that fell on me?” Piam interrupted. He sounded more shocked than outraged.

  Two figures pushed their way between the row of guards to join Prince Piam. It was Queen Emery and Chifflin. When the queen saw Meylyne her eyes almost popped out of her head.

  “Meylyne,” she gasped. “You. Have. Wings.”

  “Yes, that’s what matters Mother,” Prince Piam snapped. Then he yelled, “Seize them!”

  The guards charged. Meylyne balled up her fists, ready to fling a wind-shield around her friends and herself but Blue whirled around with such agility and speed that it seemed to Meylyne he had ten blades, not one. His size made him near-impossible to see. Within seconds, half of the guards were disarmed and on their backs. A few kicks from Grimorex sent the others flying.

  “Look, just listen to Meylyne for a minute,” Blue panted as Prince Piam leveled his sword at him. “You can stop this war right now!”

  For a second there was silence, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the cedars beyond. The guards got to their feet but kept their distance.

  “Who are you? And what war are you talking about?” Piam demanded.

  Meylyne opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Prince Piam and Queen Emery seemed remarkably calm considering they were about to go to war. For the first time, she took a good look at the few members of the crowd that had not fled and were peering curiously at them from behind the guards.

  No swords. No battle armor. What’s going on?

  Then she spotted the girl all dressed in white. She wore the traditional headgear of a bride.

  Why would a bride be here unless—

  “Is, is this a wedding?” she asked incredulously.

  “Of course it is! What did you think? This is my wedding and you’re not going to stop it, as much as you’d like to. We’re finally going to unite the Houses of Cardinal and Rose,” Prince Piam replied.

  Meylyne blinked. “You found a Rose peaceweaver?”

  The girl in white moved forward until she stood inside the Wishing Well. Tresses of chestnut-brown hair cascaded down her back and her skin was the color of freshly-fallen snow. She smiled timidly at Meylyne and as she did so Meylyne saw something move inside her big blue eyes—something scrabbling to get out.

  Just like Mother’s eyes.

  Comprehension dawned upon Meylyne. This was the war that the Great Oaken Mother had spoken of. With her mother poisoning Prince Piam’s mind, Glendoch would end in bloodshed just as surely as if it were overrun with sphers. With a mirthless chuckle she said, “Very clever Mother.”

  Meylyne turned back to Piam. “Listen to me. You can’t marry this girl.” She jabbed her finger toward the bride. “She’s a warweaver, not a peaceweaver. All she wants is to do is destroy Glendoch!”

  “Forgive me for stating the obvious,” Chifflin interjected. “That girl is not your mother, Meylyne—she’s a Rose Royal.”

  Meylyne pursed her lips.

  “That she is—but not who you think. How did you so conveniently find yourself a peaceweaver after all this time?”

  “I’ve been living at sea with my uncle,” the girl’s voice rang out like birdsong.

  “What? Oh that’s a great story!” Meylyne turned back to Prince Piam. “Look, she’s not your bride—she’s my mother, and furthermore, she’s Princess Amber’s sister!”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Queen Emery spoke.

  “No, Meylyne—Princess Amber’s sister died at birth as everyone knows.”

  “She didn’t die at birth! Her parents, and you—” Meylyne stabbed her finger at Chifflin, “—sold her out to the snake people!”

  Queen Emery bit her lip and her expression changed from curiosity to pity.

  “I’m sure you’d love to consider yourself part of the royal family.”

  Meylyne threw up her arms.

  “Listen! You must believe me—”

  “Prove it,” Chifflin interrupted her.

  “Chifflin! Don’t encourage her!” said Queen Emery.

  “Go on, prove it,” Chifflin repeated, ignoring Queen Emery.

  The imposter-bride moved behind Prince Piam. “Don’t let her hurt me,” she whimpered.

  “She wouldn’t dare,” Prince Piam growled. “Why are you encouraging her?” he snapped at
Chifflin. “I know you had your misgivings about this wedding but—”

  Chifflin held up his finger, silencing Prince Piam. His eyes were trained on Meylyne. “We’re waiting.”

  Meylyne squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think. How could she prove it? Her strength was slowly returning but there were too many people around to engage her mother in sorcery without putting them all at risk.

  “Call wand to you!” Hope said.

  All of the royals jumped. None of them had met a Talking Animal before.

  “Did that stallyinx just speak?” Prince Piam asked.

  Ignoring him, Meylyne glared at the girl. “It’s not that easy. She’s not just going to part with it, are you Mother?”

  The girl whimpered again.

  “I don’t know what she’s talking about, I swear!”

  An idea came to Meylyne. Muttering a single word, she felt the pull of her incantation, drawing her mother’s wand to her. It had to be on her somewhere. As she expected, she felt her mother tug the wand back to herself. Turning her palm upward, Meylyne directed the pewter shield in her hand toward the tug, hoping to reverse the energy flow.

  It worked! There was a flash of black at the girl’s wrist as something hidden up her sleeve shot out toward Meylyne. The girl’s hand closed around it, quick as a flash.

  Chifflin pointed at it.

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s her wand. Why don’t you ask her for it?” Meylyne said.

  Prince Piam held out his hand to his bride. “May I see that?”

  Prince Piam’s beautiful bride gave him a look of such malevolence that he backed away. Out of the corner of her eye, Meylyne saw the curious crowd inching nearer. Panic swelled within her.

  “Grimorex—move the crowd away.”

  Grimorex strode toward the crowd, which immediately turned and fled. Meanwhile, the imposter-bride’s hair was slowly turning black. She gave a low laugh.

  “Well-played Meylyne,” she said and her voice was no longer high and clear. Rich and velvety, it was unmistakably that of Meylyne’s mother.

  “Ellenyr, is that you?” Queen Emery whispered.

  By the time the so-called peaceweaver turned to face Queen Emery, the transformation was complete. Queen Emery gasped to see Meylyne’s mother in her place.

  The air seemed to stand still. Piam’s sword hung limply by his side and Chifflin’s eyes were like two saucers in his head. Finally Meylyne’s mother spoke, splitting the silence with her words.

  “Don’t call me Ellenyr. My name is Anastisse.”

  25

  Facing the Thorn Queen

  “ANASTISSE,” CHIFFLIN BREATHED. “WE ALL ASSUMED you were dead.”

  Meylyne’s mother shot Chifflin a venomous look and she slashed her wand downward. From the swath it cut in the air flew a swarm of black wasps that dove at Chifflin with a menacing whine. Hope shoved him out of the way just in time. Grabbing a handful of snow, Meylyne flung it at them. It opened into a net, trapping them on the ground.

  Meylyne’s mother laughed as Chifflin scrambled to his feet.

  “Yes of course. You believed what you wanted to believe.” Her nostrils flared. “You are Glendoch’s sage! You were supposed to be the wise one. The trustworthy one. Is it any wonder Glendoch is so corrupt?”

  To her right, Prince Piam slowly raised his sword. Meylyne’s mother flicked her wand and he cried out, dropping his sword to the ground. A large red blister bubbled up on his palm where the sword had scorched him.

  “I advise everyone to stay still. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” said Meylyne’s mother.

  The crowd became like statues.

  “Yes you do,” Meylyne retorted. “That’s why you unleashed the sphers. You wanted everyone to kill each other! Why even bother? Why not just do it yourself?”

  Meylyne’s mother remained silent, her face revealing nothing. From the stones of the Wishing Well, Meylyne heard a whisper—

  “She can’t. Not without suffering the consequences.”

  A murder of crows cawed to one another, circling in the air.

  “Of course,” Meylyne murmured. “The whole balance of power thing. You can’t hurt the Glendochians yourself—not if you want to keep the balance in your favor.”

  Her mother produced a cold smile.

  “I wish to reform Glendoch. You, too, have suffered imprisonment—forced to live in the Between-World, treated like an abomination, all because you have garlysle blood. Why don’t you join me?”

  “Reform Glendoch into what? Its cities burned to the ground? The Above-Worldians killed by each other’s hand? That’s your idea of a reformed Glendoch?”

  “At least then it will be honest.”

  Meylyne squared her shoulders. “No.”

  Her mother held her gaze and once again Meylyne saw something trying to claw its way out of her eyes.

  “How sweet. You thought that was a request.”

  As her mother lifted her wand, Meylyne stepped inside the Wishing Well and spun around, whistling at the stones surrounding them. Creaking and groaning, they grew as tall as trees, enclosing her and her mother.

  Something whizzed by her nose and her mother shrieked. An arrow had pierced her arm. Horrified, Meylyne realized where it had come from.

  Oh no—Blue’s in here too!

  Raising his bow, Blue let fly another arrow. Meylyne’s mother ducked. Snarling, she beat her wand in the air. A drop of red liquid fell out, forming into a hideous creature. It looked like an overgrown, hairless cat. Blue backed away, pulling out his dagger just as it pounced on him, sinking its teeth into his neck. Grunting, Blue fell over backward, slashing at the creature with his dagger. It went limp, jagged icicles sprouting from its wound. Blue cried out as one stabbed him in the side.

  “Blue!” Meylyne screamed as he lay still on the ground, his eyes closed. Anguish pressed against her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Running to him, she shook his shoulders but he did not wake up.

  “I didn’t want to hurt him,” she heard her mother say. “It’s just what happens when alchemists make friends with the ordinary. That’s why I stunted your alchemical skills—I wanted you to have the chance at a normal childhood.”

  Rage bubbled up inside Meylyne.

  “How dare you pretend that you did that for me? That was all for you, and you know it!”

  Pointing at the ice around her mother’s feet, she raised up her hand, drawing up a cage of jagged stalagmites around her mother. One pierced her mother’s hand and she screamed but still did not drop her wand. It was as if it was a part of her.

  Then something fell from the sky. Meylyne looked up. Hail. Another one fell, and another. The tiny stones hammered down upon her head and shoulders. She turned her palm to face them and the shower stopped. For a second the hailstones flew up, and then she directed them with all her might toward her mother. They slammed into her wand arm and this time it worked.

  With a shriek, her mother dropped the wand. She immediately fell to the ground and tried to pick it up but it was soon buried in hail. She tried to get up but the jagged little rocks bore relentlessly down upon her. Soon she too would be buried.

  Meylyne heard her mother’s voice carrying over the storm.

  “It feels good, doesn’t it? All that power to get back at those that hurt you.”

  Meylyne closed her eyes. Her arms felt like lead—almost too heavy to lift but from the fury that burned in her belly she drew a different sort of strength. It flowed through her like molten lava. Black shapes danced and leaped before her eyes as she directed the fire up toward the hail. It pounded her mother with an even greater ferocity than before.

  “But have you forgotten your friend?” Her mother’s muffled voice came again. “If you don’t heal him soon, he’ll be gone.”

  Blue!

  Keeping the sheet of hail pointed at her mother, she looked back at him. He was still lying on the ground, in arm’s distance. She could just reach back with one wing to heal him . . .


  A sliver of pink slithered by. She heard a hiss—

  “Stop, Meylyne, before it is too late.”

  The snake was there! Suddenly its parting words came back to her—

  “Never use your wings while you are angry.”

  The black shapes continued to twist around her. For a second the ice-cold fire fueling her subsided and she fell to her knees. The hailstorm lessened.

  “No,” she snarled, pushing herself to her feet. “Go away snake. I have to use my wings’ magic—I must save Blue. She’s only getting she gets what she deserves!”

  “Then you are just like she.”

  “What? I am nothing like she is!”

  “Really? Look behind you.”

  Meylyne whirled around. The hail had beaten a sheen into one of the boulders. From it, her reflection stared back at her. Wild-eyed with her hair strewn around her blotched face, she barely recognized herself. The tip of the boulder crumbled and Meylyne felt like a piece of her crumbled with it. She hung her head and her wings fell to her sides.

  I am doing exactly what my mother wants.

  The hailstorm ebbed to a trickle.

  “I’m not doing this Mother. I am not joining you,” she said.

  The pile of stones covering her mother fell away as she stood up. Plunging her hands into the rubble before her, she pulled out her wand.

  “Yes. You. WILL!”

  The blows came out of nowhere. Next thing she knew, Meylyne was on her back, the breath knocked out of her. She heard Blue’s voice and then everything happened at once . . . a flash of steel . . . his sword clattering beside her . . . a shadow above. Rolling to her side, she grabbed the sword and swung it. An explosion of black and gold sparks showered down around her.

  The silence that followed seemed to stretch for an eternity.

  Is this what death is? Meylyne wondered.

  Then a howl slashed through the silence like a scythe. Through the thinning sparkles, Meylyne saw her mother crouched on the ground, staring at something.

  Her wand—slashed in two!

  Her mother howled again, gathering the wand’s pieces to her. Meylyne tried to get up but slabs of boulder pinned her down. One must have shattered on her. With a roar, she heaved a piece off her legs and crawled to where her mother sat.