The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire)

by C. J. Redwine

  “Mirror, mirror, your depths I scry,” she said as power gathered in her palms and leaped toward the glass. “Show me the princess Lorelai.”

  The white light of her magic spiraled into the swirling gray of the mirror, and suddenly there she was—lying on a blanket inside a tent, her eyes closed, a black man with his back to the mirror bending over her, and an enormous gyrfalcon perched just inside the tent’s entrance. Her skin was as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, and her long hair as black as ebony.

  “Lorelai,” the queen whispered. She looked up at Viktor, her voice shaking. “She’s alive.”

  FIFTEEN

  KOL STOOD ON the balcony of his room in Ravenspire’s castle and stared at the midnight sky. How was Brig faring without him? How much ground had his army lost to the ogres while he’d been gone? The council hadn’t sent word for him to return, so he had to believe the ogres had yet to threaten the capital, but that could change in an instant. His people needed saving, and so far his desperate mission to get help from Queen Irina had been a spectacular failure.

  He couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain without a specific scent to follow. The trip to Nordenberg had been as terrifying as it had been unproductive. It was one thing to know he was dealing with a mardushka of extraordinary power. It was another to see it in action.

  All that power, however, had been for naught. No princess caught in the queen’s web. No scent for Kol to track. And at the end of the spell, Irina had simply collapsed. He’d been ensconced in the visitor’s wing of the castle for days now with no word on when Irina would be well enough to meet with him. In fact, judging by the somber looks on the faces of the maids and pages who served the Eldrians, many in the castle no longer believed Irina would recover at all.

  Which meant Eldr and everyone in it was doomed.

  He began pacing the stone balcony, his eyes tracing familiar constellations in the sky above. Did his sister wander her balcony at night staring at the stars while she worried over him?

  Did his people fear their second-rate king had abandoned them in their time of need?

  Most important, could he come up with a plan to save Eldr that didn’t involve Irina before the ogres destroyed what was left of his kingdom?

  The cathedral bells tolled the hour—twelve strikes of a hammer against the bells. Twelve reminders that Kol was running out of time. Eldr was running out of time.

  Maybe he could go to Morcant and beg King Milek for favor. Despite what Irina had said about mardushkas in Morcant obeying the laws restricting the use of magic, he bet he could find a price that would tempt Milek into finding a mardushka capable of helping. He doubted Milek would need reminding that Draconi were able to sniff out veins of gold and caverns of jewels buried deep under the ground. It was tantamount to agreeing to enslave himself to the king as a treasure hunter for the rest of his days, but it was better than allowing Eldr to fall.

  His friends would never let him do it. He’d have to shift into his dragon and leave the castle without a word to them.

  The thought of not saying good-bye—to his friends or to Brig—hurt, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t have the energy to argue with them, especially when nothing they said would sway him. Eldr was his responsibility, and he’d made a promise on his father’s funeral pyre that he wouldn’t be a disappointment again. He refused to break that promise.

  He also couldn’t risk his friends shifting into dragons and following him to Morcant, which they would do without hesitation. King Milek would agree to loan Eldr a talented mardushka in exchange for the servitude of one dragon. He didn’t need to know there were two more potential treasure hunters at his disposal.

  Kol stopped pacing and sagged against the iron railing as a frigid breeze chased dead leaves across the wide expanse of the castle grounds. Facing the flight to Morcant alone was harder than he’d anticipated, but it was what a true leader would do.

  His mind made up, Kol unbuttoned his shirt with swift fingers and shrugged out of the garment, letting it fall in a heap on the balcony. He’d leave enough signs for his friends to realize he’d shifted and flown away on his own, rather than let them worry someone in Ravenspire had done him harm. By the time they realized he was gone and tracked him by scent to Morcant, he’d have already struck a deal with King Milek, and it would be over.

  He stepped to the edge of his balcony as he reached for his belt.

  “Going somewhere?” Jyn asked from the balcony to his right.

  He jumped and whirled to face her as she stepped out of the shadows beside the door to her room.

  “Planning to shift into your dragon and go make a deal without us?” Trugg asked from the balcony to his left as he too stepped out of the shadows and into the starlight, his meaty arms folded over his chest while he glared at his king.

  “What are you two doing out this late?” He forced himself to sound casual, like the fact that he’d been stripping in the moonlight was of no consequence, but the looks on his friends’ faces said they weren’t convinced.

  “What do you think we’re doing? We’re guarding you.” Trugg sounded furious.

  “Guarding . . . I never instructed you to guard me.” He returned Trugg’s glare with one of his own while his hastily constructed backup plan disintegrated into dust.

  “Good thing we didn’t ask your permission, then.” Trugg stepped closer.

  “You’re our king.” Jyn rolled to the balls of her feet and shrugged out of her shirt, leaving nothing but a thin camisole and her pants. “And our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be watching over you day and night?”

  Something hot and thick rose in Kol’s throat as Trugg’s shirt hit the balcony as well. They were preparing to shift. They weren’t trying to talk him out of his decision. They weren’t arguing with his reasons. They were simply ready to throw themselves into danger because where he went, they followed.

  “You can’t come with me,” he said, and, curse the skies, his voice shook.

  “I dare you to try to stop us,” Trugg said as he dropped his pants.

  “You don’t understand.” Kol’s voice rose. “I don’t have time to wait for Irina to get better—if she gets better. Eldr needs help now. I’m going to Morcant to offer myself to the king in exchange for a mardushka capable of defeating the ogres. If you come along—”

  “When we come along.” Jyn’s pants followed her shirt.

  “If you come along, King Milek will try to enslave you in exchange for the mardushka instead of just enslaving me. I can’t allow that. I won’t. It’s my job to protect Eldr. All of Eldr. And I’m not going to fail my people. Do you hear me?” He grabbed the balustrade with shaking fingers. “I’m not going to fail my people anymore. This is my sacrifice to make.”

  “And we aren’t going to fail you, Kol.” Jyn’s dark eyes gleamed. “You think you have to be strong for Eldr, and you’re right. You do. But so do we. So does every single Eldrian threatened by the ogre invasion. You have the responsibility of saving Eldr, but we have the responsibility of saving you.”

  Kol stared at her while the thickness in his throat became the sting of unshed tears in his eyes. “I don’t need to be saved.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Trugg said gruffly. “Eldr needs a king, not another loss. And you are the king Eldr needs, even if you pull stupid stunts like trying to fly off on your own to deal with the king of Morcant because sky forbid you should ask for help.”

  Gratitude and fear settled into Kol’s chest like a burning stone. He slammed his fist against the balustrade and yelled, “If I ask for your help, I’m condemning you to enslavement in Morcant for the rest of your lives!”

  Trugg lunged forward until only the thin space between their two balconies separated him from Kol. “No, you great ugly lizard, I’m condemning myself to enslavement in Morcant for the rest of my life because Eldr needs a mardushka and a king. Now shift or shut up about this plan and go back into your room where I don’t have to worry about you.�
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  A tense silence fell between them. Kol was trying to swallow past the thickness in his throat and come up with words that would shoulder the weight of his feelings, but if the words existed, he couldn’t find them. Trugg raised a brow and stood in his undergarment, his arms crossed over his chest while he waited for his king’s decision.

  Before Kol could choose whether to continue with his plan to petition King Milek at the expense of his friends or whether to give Irina one more day to recover from her illness, someone knocked sharply at his door.

  Instantly, Jyn disappeared into her room as if rushing to check the hallway outside Kol’s door. Trugg backed up, took a running leap, and landed beside Kol on the king’s balcony.

  “I’ll answer that,” he said.

  “I can answer my own door.” Kol decided to save himself the humiliation of trying to push past Trugg and into his bedroom first. “Besides, you aren’t wearing any pants.”

  “I don’t need pants to deal with whoever has decided to disturb my king at this unholy hour of the night.” Trugg strode through Kol’s chambers and wrenched open the door.

  Viktor stood on the other side, his hair damp as if he’d just finished bathing, and his clothing impeccable. He glanced once at Trugg’s lack of clothing and then looked pointedly over the boy’s shoulder.

  “Queen Irina has recovered and requests an audience with King Kolvanismir,” he said, his measured tone giving no indication that he was face-to-face with a mostly naked Eldrian warrior.

  In minutes, Kol and his friends were appropriately dressed and standing before the queen as she reclined on a white couch in a cozy office. A torn once-white coat lay on her lap, and her creepy snake was coiled by her side.

  “I’m pleased to see that you’re recovering,” Kol said, though pleased hardly covered it. Eldr still had a chance, and Kol hadn’t had to sell himself into slavery to King Milek to accomplish it.

  Irina leaned forward, her eyes lit with zeal. “We’re both about to get what we want, my dear boy.”

  The queen lifted the coat, and Viktor hurried forward to bring it to Kol. It smelled like burned wood, spicy evergreens, and crisp snow with a hint of something softer underneath.

  Something about the scent was familiar.

  “Whose is this?” he asked.

  Irina’s smile was fierce. “It was left on a rooftop in Nordenberg by someone fleeing my spell.”

  “How does that help us?”

  “Because the person fleeing my spell was the princess. I’ve recently seen the body of the boy who was caught by my spell. It was her brother. My magic just discovered her location in the Falkrain Mountains, and now we have her scent.”

  Kol stared at the coat in his hands, his hearts pounding. Slowly, he raised his head to look at the queen. “Our blood oath still stands. I’ll bring the princess to the castle, and you seal the ogres back into Vallé de Lumé.”

  Irina’s smile disappeared. “I don’t require all of the princess, huntsman.”

  A chill raced over Kol’s skin. “I don’t understand. Our oath said—”

  “Our oath said that once you complete the task I set before you, my magic will deliver Eldr from the ogres. The exact wording of the oath itself must be obeyed, or your blood will turn to poison, and you will die.”

  “I agreed to bring the princess back to the castle.” Kol met the queen’s gaze and worked hard to hold it.

  She leaned forward, her eyes pinning Kol where he stood. “You agreed to do whatever I asked of you. And I am asking you to bring me the princess’s heart.”

  The breath left Kol’s body, and his fists dug into the coat while his dragon heart pounded fiercely. “I can’t . . . I don’t hurt people.”

  The queen’s voice was lethal. “Hurt one person, or lose your life and the lives of everyone in Eldr. It’s your choice.”

  It was no choice at all. His kingdom was in shambles. His people were dying. Even now, the ogres could be at the capital. And if he refused, if he broke his oath, he would die, and Eldr would fall.

  Kol turned on his heel and left the room to hunt.

  SIXTEEN

  LORELAI’S EYES OPENED slowly. The canvas ceiling of their tent stretched above her. For a moment, she expected to hear Leo complaining about how early Gabril had awakened them, but then the truth hit with a fresh wave of pain.

  Leo was gone.

  Her chest was a hollow, empty space that ached with loss, and she wanted to close her eyes again and let sleep take her.

  Wake up, wake up, wake up, please Lorelai. Please. Just wake up.

  She blinked, and tears stung her eyes as she turned to see Gabril kneeling beside her, his shoulders bowed, his face pressed into the blanket next to her shoulder. She opened her mouth to tell him that she was awake, but he was already speaking again.

  I don’t know what to do. What do I do, Ada? Leo, my precious boy, didn’t come back, and Irina must know where we are since Lorelai touched the ground. Where do I take her when I can’t carry her? How do I keep her safe now?

  Lorelai frowned. It was Gabril’s voice, but it wasn’t like anything he’d ever say to her. And he was talking to Ada, the woman he’d mentioned when he’d been out of his mind with fever. Was he feverish again?

  The queen will be coming. I know it. What do I do?

  He sounded desperate. Lorelai tried to lift her hand to lay on his shoulder, but her body didn’t want to obey her yet. She settled for saying, “Gabril.”

  Gabril slowly raised his head. “You’re awake.” His voice shook with relief.

  How do I save her, Ada?

  “Who’s Ada?” Lorelai asked seconds before an image of a beautiful black woman with two boys who looked remarkably like Gabril filled her head.

  Lorelai’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head in rapid denial as Gabril’s eyes widened in horror. She hadn’t been hearing him speak. She’d been hearing his thoughts.

  “Oh no. I sent magic into you, and now I can hear your thoughts like I can with Sasha.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t want to be inside your head.”

  His mouth tightened, and suddenly where his thoughts had been there was a blank wall of nothing. A frown pinched her brows together as she pushed to feel the connection between their minds and came up with nothing.

  “Better?” he asked quietly.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know if you remember the Morcantian mountain woman we stayed with for a few weeks after we left the castle. I’d met her a few times before when I accompanied the king to Morcant. She gave me a rudimentary understanding of your magic and taught me how to block a mardushka from using a mental bond in case the magic Irina used to bespell me had given her the ability to hear my thoughts.”

  “A bond is only created when a mardushka sends her magic into you and commands your heart,” Lorelai said. “Like what happened when I healed Sasha. I don’t think Irina would dare create a mental bond because it works both ways. She’d never let anyone know what she’s really thinking.”

  “Better safe than dead.” His dark eyes studied her intently. “You’ve been asleep for two days. Thirsty?”

  She accepted the water he offered.

  “Leo . . .” Her voice, husky from disuse, cracked over her brother’s name, and then she was in Gabril’s arms, sobbing.

  “He’s dead?” Gabril’s voice wavered. Tears gathered in his eyes as she nodded.

  “How?” he asked, and the edge in his tone promised terrible things for the one who’d killed his prince.

  “Irina.” Her eyelids were already drooping again, and weariness that was half grief and half weakness from having had to overpower Gabril’s implacable will to heal him turned her thoughts to wisps of smoke.

  “Sleep,” he said softly. “We need to leave first thing in the morning. You can tell me about it then.”

  By morning, Lorelai was strong enough to get up and eat breakfast without help. Gabril boiled a small pot of beans and sliced the last of
the apples they’d stolen from the queen’s garrison. She ate the beans but ignored the apples.

  After seeing the villagers eat Irina’s rotten apples in Nordenberg, Lorelai wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to eat the fruit again.

  Hunt but don’t bring your meal back to share with me. Lorelai pushed the thought at Sasha and watched the gyrfalcon spiral into the sky and disappear from view.

  Gabril eased himself down beside her, his hand massaging his aching left leg in the early morning chill. He peered at her half-eaten breakfast, his expression inscrutable.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Her stomach churned, and her voice was hollow as she told Gabril about Nordenberg. The grief that had consumed her from the moment she realized she couldn’t save Leo was burning in her chest. A wound that swallowed the words she still thought to say to him before once again remembering that he was gone.

  She leaned against Gabril as he held her, and then he said gently, “Better finish eating. We need to leave. We’ll figure out what to do next once we put some distance between us and this part of the mountain.”

  She looked at her boots, at the worn toe on the left one where she used it to push off walls or tree trunks to propel herself upward, and took another bite of beans. The food tasted like ashes in her mouth, and her stomach rebelled at the thought of eating, but she didn’t have the luxury of allowing her grief to make her weak. She chewed viciously, magic threading through her veins and stinging her palms as the terrible grief within her focused on its target.

  She had a queen to destroy.

  She remained silent while she ate, her thoughts a tangle she had to unknot so she could make a plan. Irina was a master at using her magic like a weapon, and she knew where to find Lorelai. That was a significant disadvantage. Plus, Lorelai was used to being part of a team—Leo dreamed bold and big, while Lorelai planned down to the smallest detail to keep them both safe.