The Warrior's Curse

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  “With her magic, and with the half-lives, she should have been on equal ground to fight him,” Darrow said. “How did he get her to her knees like that?”

  Harlyn opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  From behind me, Trina said, “Are we going to sit here and discuss this, or do something? Every minute we waste is a minute she better understands what she has absorbed from Endrick.”

  I turned to Darrow. “Surely you see what is happening. Take me to her, please.”

  After a quick glare at Trina, he looked again at me. “The first time I saw all of you was on the road headed to Woodcourt. Kestra’s life never was easy, but you Coracks made a fine mess of what little she did have. You destroyed the family she had known, made her hated in every region of the country, gave her magic—knowing what it would do to her—and now you wish to punish her for what you did! Kestra is my daughter. I gave my life to her service, the only way I could remain close to her, and just when she was getting old enough that I could have told her the truth, you took me from her too.” Darrow shook his head. “You have ruined her life. I’ll take you to her, Simon, no one else. But if you make a single move to harm her, I swear that I will strike you down first.”

  “You cannot go,” Trina said. I began to object but she added, “You’re a king. You have responsibilities to your people.”

  “You won’t have the right judgment around her—even you admit that,” Gabe said.

  “I’ll go,” Harlyn said.

  “No!”

  “Simon, listen to me! When I was in the throne room with Kestra, there was a point when she could have killed me, but she didn’t. I don’t think she’ll kill me now either.”

  “None of us should go in that room without a plan to stop her.” Gabe quickly added, “Without harming her, of course.”

  His tone sounded sincere, but I knew otherwise. Gabe had only said that because Darrow was listening.

  Harlyn said, “The hand she fights with is injured. If I can get close to her, I can steal the Olden Blade. Then at least we have something to bargain with.”

  Or the means to kill her. I was thinking it, and I knew the same was true for every one of us in this circle.

  “If Kestra already saved Harlyn once, she might not see Harlyn as a threat,” Trina said. “I say that we should let her go with Darrow.”

  It wasn’t a good idea, but it was the best idea we had, so reluctantly, I nodded. Harlyn gave me a smile of confidence, then followed Darrow down a long hallway.

  “Now what?” Gabe asked.

  “Let’s rejoin the others and figure out what to do next,” Trina said.

  Only then did I realize that we had not been alone for our conversation, though I couldn’t say how long Joth had been standing at the entrance to the palace. He announced himself with a mocking laugh, then said, “Rejoin the rest of your petty Alliance at your own risk.” Joth strode into the palace through the main doors as casually as if this was his country to rule. “With Endrick dead, it’s chaos out there.”

  I marched toward him with every intent of attacking, but Gabe grabbed my arm to hold me back, whispering that this was not a fight we could win.

  Joth merely stared at us as if we were little more than flies to be swatted away, finally saying, “Kestra completed the task she was chosen to do, gave freedom to Antora, and all you can think of her is what a problem she has become. Kestra Dallisor saved all of you! Can you not be grateful enough to postpone thinking of ways to kill her even for a single day?”

  Trina had walked to the palace doors, right where Joth had previously stood. “Simon, he spoke the truth. We need to get out there.”

  “One minute.” Hoping to placate Joth’s temper, I kept my voice calm. “Will you pass a message to Kestra? Tell her that, at noon the coming day, I will be waiting on the front steps of the palace, unarmed and alone. I only want to speak to her, to thank her for what she has done.”

  Joth smiled. “Isn’t that charming? I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  Except that his tone clearly indicated he had no intention of telling her what I’d said. He countered, “Instead, I want you to go out there and tell your people to bow before the new ruler of this kingdom here in the courtyard of the palace. And for their sakes, they had all better come.”

  I shook my head. “I will pass on no such message until after I speak directly with her.”

  “Anyone not in the palace courtyard at noon will be punished,” Joth said. “Whether you give them the message or not.”

  “Are those Kestra’s orders, or yours?” I asked.

  “Kestra and I share powers, so we share orders,” he said, raising his voice. “You wish to speak to her? Well, you have, through me.”

  I tried another tactic. “If she is queen now, I am a king, and I want to open diplomatic talks with her.”

  Joth laughed. “Ah yes, King of the Banished. You have only a few hours left to rule over a lost and damaged people. Enjoy it while you can, but there will be no meeting, ever. Now get your scattered Alliance to the courtyard by noon.”

  He turned and walked away from us, not once looking back over his shoulder, which meant he had no fear of being followed.

  I had until noon tomorrow to figure out a solution.

  No, if I waited until noon, the game was over. The countdown had begun. If I was going to win, noon tomorrow would either prove our victory, or destroy us all.

  And the clock was ticking.

  Somewhere in Highwyn, a steeple clock rang out the time. Midnight. I had been the queen of Antora for exactly twenty-eight minutes and so far had done little but contemplate the insignificance of my title. Considering all that I had done to get here, I felt no satisfaction in merely being a queen.

  Should I be an empress? If there were overlords, could I be an overlady?

  I supposed these were the problems a new all-powerful leader had to deal with.

  Smiling, I began to think of what I should do first: announce to the people that Endrick was dead, I supposed. Perhaps they would cheer, until they realized that I had replaced him. No one would be happy about that.

  Not the Dallisors—I wasn’t one of them.

  Not the Halderians—more than once, they had rejected me as part of their clan.

  Not the Coracks—they wanted me dead.

  There were no more Endreans. I was the last of them.

  But all of them would kneel at my feet, or they must die.

  As I was the last Endrean, so I would be the last queen of Antora as well. For if Endrick had been nearly immortal, then I would correct his errors and reign forever.

  “Kestra.” The doors to the room opened, and most amazingly, Darrow was on the other side of them.

  I stood, eager for company, someone to congratulate me and counsel me as to how best to introduce my reign to the people. But I had no sooner said his name than I realized he was not alone. Another person entered the throne room with him, and I was anything but happy to see her.

  “Harlyn?”

  Her hands were shaking, but she would have been even more afraid if she’d known my thoughts. Addressing her, I said, “You enter this room without acknowledging my title, nor showing me the proper respect. Go to your knees, both of you.” I waved my hand, and both Harlyn and Darrow collapsed to their knees. That was better.

  “Is it kneeling if we are forced to do it?” Harlyn asked. “I recognize one ruler only, king of the Halderians, Simon Hatch.”

  “Do not say his name here!” I had it in mind to crush her heart for her words, but instead, her words were already crushing mine. I’d tried desperately to seal my heart against pain, against any further wounds, but if simply hearing his name hurt this way, then all my efforts had been in vain. With such scattered emotions, I could not collect the magic within me to punish her properly. So instead, I said, “Do you think that because I spared your life the last time you were in this room that I will do so again? You’d be
wrong to think so. You were only the trick I needed to finish my task. I warned you to leave before, and I promise that your life will be measured in minutes if you do not leave now, and stay gone.”

  “She has come with me.” Darrow rose to his feet and walked closer to the dais where I stood. “Kestra, I must speak to you.”

  I arched a brow. Yes, perhaps I was his daughter, but I was also his queen. He could not demand anything of me.

  Still … I was curious.

  “What do you want?”

  “I need to see for myself if you are well. If you are … yourself.” There was more to this conversation than that. Sadness and disappointment were etched deeply into his face.

  “I’m better than I was before. I succeeded in my quest—Endrick is dead.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Then why do you look as if I’ve just told you I failed? Endrick is dead, Darrow!”

  “Is he?” My father took one step closer to me. “Or does he remain alive in you?”

  “I am not Endrick!” I shouted, descending the steps, heat building the closer I came to him. “Endrick has no possession of me, no influence on me, nothing! I am your daughter, as I always was!”

  Darrow shook his head. “No, Kestra, you are not.”

  “You call me by the same name I’ve always used.”

  “And yet you answer with a different voice. There is an edge to it now, anger.”

  I brushed past him to gaze out the vast windows at the side of the throne room. Here, we were high above the ground and able to see the outskirts of Highwyn, areas of farmland and travel routes to and from the city. These roads were usually full and purposeful, and I wondered if they’d be empty tomorrow. I stared at them and said, “Should I not be angry? Where are the crowds to greet their new queen? Where are the midnight parades to celebrate that I have freed them from Endrick’s grasp?”

  “Where is the daughter who risked herself to save two servants from the Coracks? The girl who defined her freedom by the miles she could run each day, the distance she could explore in the waning sunset? Where is my daughter, Kestra?”

  “Leave me.” Anger flared within my chest. “That girl was a child, but now she has seen too much to be that naïve again. Your daughter is gone.”

  “My daughter is still here, beneath layers of powerful magic, laced with tragedy.” Darrow stood at my side to stare out the window, and finally turned to me. “Nothing in this room will make you happy. Come back to us, to those who love you and care for you.”

  “Joth loves me.” Didn’t he?

  “No, Kestra. Pain and doubt and fear sometimes wear fine gilded masks that pretend to be love, but they are lies. Joth’s heart has become numb to anything but his own wishes, and he cannot love. Please, walk away from this.”

  I shook my head. “This is the reason I’ve sacrificed all that I have. Why else was I chosen as the Infidante if not for this?”

  “You were tasked with killing Endrick, not replacing him. You sacrificed to save others from what he could do, and you did so with immense courage. But none of what you did was ever meant to bring you to this place.”

  “There is no other place for me. If I do not sit at the top of Antora, I will be crushed by those who climb over me to reach the throne.”

  “Then come away with me.” Darrow stretched out his hand, earnest in his expression. “If there is nowhere else, we can return to the Lava Fields, and there you can start over.”

  For a brief moment, I wanted to take his hand, to be the girl I once was, in a time that seemed ages ago. But I clutched my hand into a fist and backed away from him. “I have work to do here. I must build a new army, control my enemies, and create a circle of loyalists around me. That’s where I will start, right here in this room. With my father by my side, I hope.”

  Slowly, Darrow exhaled, and his shoulders hunched. “I will not be a loyalist to you, Kestra. I cannot.”

  Incredulous at his words, I stopped to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I will not kneel to this person you are now, not willingly. I will love you always, as a father, but I will not serve you, nor heed your orders, nor acknowledge you as anyone with authority over me.”

  “Then you will be the first to commit treason against me. Would you betray me, Father?”

  “Would you punish me, Daughter?”

  Heat rushed through my heart, hardening it. “Believe that I can, and I will. You will be an example to the people, either showing them how to kneel to me, or the consequences of failing to do so.”

  His shoulders slumped further. “Then I was right all along. Lord Endrick is not dead after all. He lives and now goes by the name of Kestra Dallisor.”

  I raised my hand, furious and fully aware that with the powers that I had absorbed from Endrick, I could kill Darrow where he now stood, or do anything else short of that.

  Yet wasn’t that his point, that I could now do everything that Endrick could have done?

  And that with these powers, I would do everything that Endrick had done.

  I was still myself, but I suspected if I looked in a mirror, the eyes that stared back at me would have a reflection of Endrick in them. Would that be so wrong?

  Endrick’s rule had been fierce, but except for the Coracks, Antora had been at peace for a generation. There would be peace under my rule as well, after I crushed the rebellion.

  “Leave me alone,” I whispered. “Never return. Your daughter as you once knew her is dead to you. And the Kestra Dallisor that she has become will not forgive you twice.”

  Harlyn stepped forward, raising her sword. “Then the Kestra Dallisor that you have become will have to fight me.”

  I smiled. “Fighting you is no more effort than crushing a mosquito.” As Endrick had once done to me, I waved my hand through the air, and Harlyn was pushed along with it, swept out the back exit of the throne room and out of my sight. I didn’t care what happened to her after that. The air already smelled better without her sharing in it.

  “What have you done?” Darrow asked, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Queen, but I will go and attend to that girl you just … whatever you did to her. I must see if she is all right.”

  Maybe she was and maybe she was not; I hardly cared. Instead, I cared that Darrow didn’t even look back as he left my throne room. Did he know how that broke my heart?

  I took a deep breath and shook it off. No, Darrow could not be allowed to crush my heart any more than I would have allowed Endrick to do, or as Simon had done. I would have a heart that could not be crushed.

  Which meant I must have a heart that could not be touched.

  Which meant I would have to cease to feel anything for anyone.

  It was the only way I could ever survive.

  Darrow left the room, and in his place, Joth entered. He walked up behind me, placed his arms around my waist, and kissed my cheek. “We did it,” he said. “We won.”

  “I won,” I told him. Though if this was winning, I found no joy in it. Not even the Scarlet Throne of Antora was grand enough to heal the despair within me.

  Joth had described the scene outside the palace walls as one of chaos, but until leaving the courtyard, I had failed to appreciate the exact meaning of the word. Thankfully, the snow had stopped falling, but that was the only good news. It might’ve been a dark night but for the many fires set both within and without the walls. I didn’t know whether our soldiers had set them, or the Dominion Loyalists who had come to defend their ash and smoke. Ironhearts were tripping over each other in their bid for freedom, and citizens of Highwyn were attempting to protect what little they had with weapons that were hardly more threat than sticks and feathers.

  The Brill appeared to be the only group to have retained their lines, but for the worst possible reasons. A thick row of bodies went straight through the center of their numbers, and most of the survivors seemed afraid to move.

  “Is that because of Joth?” Trina asked. “Are they—”


  “Dead,” Gabe said under his breath. “Joth and his half-lives tore through them within seconds. He could do the same to any of us, without warning, and we’d have no defense.”

  Both looked to me, and I wished I had any answers to offer them. But before I could speak, Basil rode toward me with his halberd in hand. He was still too thin and weak for battle, but I respected his choice to be here. “Is it true?” he asked. “Is Endrick gone?”

  “He’s gone.” Though if battling Endrick had been a windstorm, now a season of tornados had begun. “Where is Captain Tenger?”

  Basil grimaced, then cocked his head to the left. “Come with me.”

  I followed him outside the palace walls to a field of trampled snow. In the center, Imri Stout was standing over two other Brillian soldiers. One of them, a woman with long eyelashes so translucent white they almost glowed in the darkness, looked up and shook her head.

  Imri turned to me with a vacant expression. “Even our technologies cannot heal him.”

  I pushed through the group to find Tenger on the ground. There were no visible wounds, but his eyes were rolled back in his head and he was mumbling incoherently.

  “Loelle,” Trina said. “If I can get him to Loelle—”

  “I’ll help,” Basil added.

  “Go,” I said. “And hurry.” Tenger had made it through tough scrapes before, but this time felt different, and I was worried.

  Basil started to reach for Tenger, then turned back to me and said, “I was here when it happened. Tenger challenged Joth Tarquin to a duel, no magic, a fair fight. Joth just laughed and grabbed him with both hands, holding on until Tenger barely had a breath left in his body. He said that was what Tenger deserved for plotting to kill Kestra … that such an honor must be reserved for himself alone.”

  I did a double take. “He what?”

  “That’s what he said. I know it’s terrible news, Simon, but I think Joth might be planning to do the same thing to Kestra, and then to each of us. With his half-lives, it won’t be hard.”