by Cara Bristol
Had removing the crystal angered the Goddess? She hoped not, but there was nothing she could do about it now except cradle the dead weight of her burning arm against her body. “Reena was brutalized and killed by the Lahon.”
Her words extinguished the light in Ellynna’s eyes. “You’re right. The Goddess would not be so cruel as to send a false message that my daughter is alive.”
Honna reached for the water ewer. “It’s time for your medicine.”
Ellynna shook her head. “No more, please. I’ve accepted the truth—I’m not improving. You’ve done everything you can, but the medicine is not going to save me. I don’t see a need to continue the treatment.”
First Reena, now the queen? She tightened her grip on the heavy pitcher and lifted it from the table. One blow…no, the queen’s death must look like natural causes. She set it down and pried open her fingers. Hastiness should not undermine her plan. Not when it was working so well. This was a tiny glitch. Easily surmountable. “It is helping. Already I see improvement. Do you question my ability as a healer?”
Ellynna coughed, a harsh hacking revealing her lungs had been compromised. How fortunate she lacked her daughter’s fortitude. This was proceeding even faster than she’d hoped. A weary Ellynna sank onto the pillows. From her pouch, Honna pinched a generous dosage, added it to the used glass, and filled it halfway with water.
THUMP! Thump! Thump.
She whipped around. “Who’s there?” The sound had seemed to originate from the dressing chamber. She cocked her ear. Silence. “Did you hear that noise?” she asked.
“Yes, what do you think it is?”
“I don’t know.” She shoved the goblet into Ellynna’s hands. “Please, Auntie. Trust me. Drink this. I’ll be right back.”
Honna strode to the dressing room. There was only one way in and out of the queen’s chambers, and sentries were posted outside. That didn’t mean they couldn’t be fooled. Had someone managed to sneak into the queen’s quarters?
She stepped into the dressing room. Vacant. She’d half expected to see something had fallen from atop the large wardrobes, but everything was in its place, neat and tidy, the closet doors secure. To satisfy herself, she strode to the nearest one and yanked it open. Inside hung the queen’s coronation robe. Billowy, but plain and ugly in its simplicity. Her robe would be as grand as her position, bejeweled and adorned with gilded braid and tassel. The best tailors, threatened into secrecy, already toiled night and day sewing jewels into the long train. Honna slammed the door on the queen’s robe and proceeded to the next armoire. And the next. One by one, she verified they contained only clothing. So what had caused the noise?
She returned to the sleeping chamber to find the goblet empty and Ellynna slumped against the pillows, her eyes closed. Honna’s frown transformed to a smile. Soon.
Ellynna’s eyes fluttered open, and Honna erased her grin. “What did you find?” the queen asked.
“Nothing. Have you heard that noise before?”
“No. Perhaps we have mice,” she said sleepily, her eyelids fluttering shut.
“I’ll have a word with housekeeping.” But she doubted mice had caused the thump. Honna brushed her lips against her aunt’s forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
Honna grabbed the goblet with its telltale residue. Striding toward the exit, she paused to peer into the dressing room. Something had caused that bump. “I’m going now, Auntie,” she shouted.
“Why are you yelling?” queried the voice from the bed.
She lowered her voice. “I wanted to make sure you knew I was leaving.”
* * * *
“Are you all right?” Garat assisted Reena to her feet. At the top, she’d missed her footing and slipped, hitting three steps.
“Shh,” she cautioned, her heart pounding. “Someone might hear.”
“But not you falling down the stairs?” he countered in a lower voice, stuck their torches into a wall mount, and brushed his hands over her knees.
She winced when he touched a sore spot. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going now, Auntie.” Honna’s voice filtered through the massive wooden door, and they both froze. Her pulse raced with relief at the implications—her mother was alive, and Honna was leaving her chambers! Reena exchanged a glance with Garat before tiptoeing to the door and pressing her ear against it. Silence.
“Do you hear anything else?” he whispered.
She shook her head. “No. I think she’s gone. Let’s go in.”
“We should wait.”
“But—” Her mother was on the other side! She had to see her, now!
“We must be cautious.”
She slumped. He was right, but it didn’t make it easy. Had time ever moved slower? She scratched at an imaginary itch. I’m going now, Auntie. How affectionate her endearment had sounded. Not at all like the words or tone of a murderess. Doubts crept in. Could Carinda have misunderstood? Maybe her mother had fallen ill, and Honna was doing her best to treat her and was holding petitioners and visitors at bay to give her the peace and solitude she needed to recover. Or maybe only Carinda had been barred. Everyone knew of the tension between them. Perhaps no villainy was involved—only pettiness.
Her crystal seemed to be humming. Nerves, she thought, and rubbed her wrist. Her cousin had left her lying in the woods. Couldn’t a healer tell when a person was alive?
So many doubts. So many questions. There was one way to find answers. Garat may not like it, but she was going in. Reena grabbed the door handle.
Zzzzzz. Zzzzzz.
“Ah!” she cried out. The buzz it jolted all the way up her arm. And hurt. She massaged her wrist.
“What’s wrong?” He was at her side.
“My crystal is vibrating.”
“Why? What does that mean?”
“I have no idea. It’s never done that before. Let’s go in.” Zzzzzz. She ignored the tingling vibration and yanked the iron door handle. Nothing. “It’s stuck.”
“Probably rusted. Let me.” Garat reached around her and pulled. A loud creak echoed in the stairwell as the door opened to reveal the wooden-slatted armoire. “Stand clear.”
Reena jumped out of the way, and he planted his shoulder to the wardrobe and pushed. If Honna was near, there was no way she wouldn’t have heard the screech of the door or the scrape of the heavy cupboard against the stone floor. Her heart skipped several beats while she waited to see if they would be caught, but only the perfumed air of her mother’s personal quarters wafted into the stairwell. Smells of love and home.
Hurry. Hurry. She danced from foot to foot.
Garat blocked her path. “I’ll go first to check things out. I’ll signal you when it’s safe.”
“No. I want to see her.” She appreciated everything he’d done but could not stand here a second longer. Reena attempted to scoot around him, but he was built like a brick tower and blocked her path.
“Reena.” His stern tone admonished. “You were Honna’s first target. How will getting killed help your mother?”
We don’t know that she wants me dead. Reopening an old argument would not do any good. And she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t trying to kill her. Reluctantly, she nodded, though jittering nerves urged to her to shove him out of the way. Would if she could.
“Stay here until I come for you,” he ordered. “If anything…happens, run. Return to the Lahon settlement and get Kor.” He squeezed through the opening and disappeared.
* * * *
Garat flexed his tense shoulder blades and prayed Reena would heed him. He admired her love and loyalty to her mother, but it could get her killed.
He cocked an ear for voices while taking stock of the dressing room. Massive wardrobes rested against each of the four walls of a room comprising at least half the area of his entire hut. His clothing and personal items could be contained in a single chest. Mounted on the limited wall space were candle sconces, several of them lit. His gaze narrowed on an armoir
e, its shutters ajar.
Readying his dagger, Garat approached the cabinet from the side. Standing back, he yanked open the closet door.
White robes swayed in the draft. His heart pounded with relief and foolishness. He arranged the doors the way he’d found them. A mirrored table and padded bench occupied space in the room’s center. He stepped around them and flattened himself against the wall near the exit and peeked outside.
No Honna, no guards. Just a large canopied bed centered on the far wall. And a rank odor that he remembered from Reena’s canteen. A bad sign. He slipped around the corner and into the room.
Heavy window tapestries transformed morning to dusk. Unlike the dressing room, which was well lit, only a single candle flickered beside the ornate canopied bed, shrouded in a heavy veil of privacy silks. He inched closer until he could peer around the side at a mound beneath the covers. A spray of dark hair poked out from beneath the linen to spray across the pillow. The queen? Probably. However, he couldn’t very well shake her shoulder to verify it—not without the bed’s occupant sounding an alarm.
To the left was another door. He tightened his grip on his dagger and tiptoed to it, pressing his ear against the heavy wood as Reena had done in the stairwell. No conversation or footfall, but what if it opened to a guarded corridor? What if Honna had heard Reena’s fall, gotten suspicious, and lay in wait on the other side? Garat took a breath and eased the door open a crack. He squinted through, expelling a relieved sigh at the vacant parlor—the same one where he’d met with queen. Now he was better oriented.
From his earlier visit he remembered the double doors at the far end of the outer room did lead to a long hall. If Honna was smart—and he didn’t doubt her intelligence—sentries would be posted there. He closed the door quietly.
From the bed came a rustle and an unintelligible murmur. When the sound subsided, he crept back into the dressing room.
* * * *
Reena jumped when Garat poked his head into the stairwell. “It’s safe. Come on,” he whispered.
She scooted through the opening. “Is my mother here? How is she?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer and rushed into the bedchamber. The herb smell hit her, and all hope of Honna’s innocence evaporated. Her mother was being poisoned like she had been.
Ellynna lay under a heap of linen and silk. Candlelight cast a shadow across her face, as pale as the fabrics dressing the bed. Her eyes were closed, framed by a thick brush of lashes and dark circles.
Reena dug her fingernails into her palms. If only I’d believed Garat. If only I’d come home sooner. In her heart, she knew he wouldn’t have stopped her. He’d made a pretense of holding her hostage, but she could have fled if she’d tried. This is all my fault. “Oh, Mother…” She sank onto the bed’s edge.
Her mother’s eyes popped open. “Reena? Reena! Oh Goddess, I’ve died, too, haven’t I?” She sprang upright and touched Reena’s face. She widened her eyes. “I can feel you.”
Tears streamed. “That’s because I’m alive. And so are you.” But not for long if they didn’t get her out of here. Until they knew who they could trust, they didn’t dare alert the guards. She hoped her mother could handle the journey. At her most ill, Reena would have been incapable.
“My daughter!” Her mother was thinner, but not emaciated, and her strong hug buoyed Reena’s hope. Perhaps she is not so compromised.
Garat cleared his throat, and Ellynna jerked. “We need to leave,” he said. “Begging your pardon, Shara.”
“You remember Garat, don’t you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “The Lahon. Water.” She looked at Reena. “Why is he here?”
If her mother proved as stubborn as she had been, they were in trouble. “We’ve both come to bring to you safety.”
Ellynna’s lips thinned to a grim line. “From Honna.”
Reena’s jaw dropped. “You know?”
“I am Shara. I expect to have enemies.” Her voice grew stronger and hardened. “I did not anticipate that they would reside in the palace. She fooled me for a while. She’s my niece; I believed her when she reported you’d been killed by…a Lahon.” She glanced at Garat. “I had no reason to doubt her veracity.” She returned her gaze to Reena. “She insisted I take a sleeping draught to ease my grief. Soon after, I fell ill. It took me a while to recognize the symptoms and make the connection.”
Her mother was so much more perceptive than she. “So what did you do?”
“I ceased taking the herbs and played along, pretended I was sicker than I was. But sometimes she refused to leave, and I had to drink it.” She grimaced. “I expelled it as soon as possible after she left each time. The chamber pot under the bed is quite full.”
“Why didn’t you have her imprisoned? Why drink the herb at all?”
“She’d already seized control and had me guarded. I didn’t know who remained loyal and who had gone over to her side. I needed to find out who was who.” Ellynna twisted her mouth with self-deprecation. “Even after I realized I couldn’t trust her, I never doubted her word that you were dead. Her betrayal seemed to prove it. She’d brought back your bloodied robe—” Ellynna broke off, clutched her stomach, and grimaced.
“Mother! Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Traces of the herbal remain in my system.” Remorse darkened her eyes. “I am so sorry for your suffering, for not realizing what was happening. I will never forgive myself.”
Reena rubbed her crystal to still the vibration. “You mustn’t blame yourself. We all believed her.”
“We need to get you to a healer, Shara.” Garat said.
“How will we get past the guards in the hall?” her mother asked.
“We’ll take you through the secret passage,” he replied.
“A secret passage?”
“Behind your dressing room. It leads—” Reena winced when the buzzing increased to the point of pain. Why was it doing that?
Ellynna frowned with motherly concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just—”
Garat touched her shoulder. “Let’s talk later. We need to leave.”
“No one is going anywhere.” Honna’s stepped from around the draped bed. Her arm had withered and curled against her body, but in her left hand she brandished an EID.
“No!” Garat dove for the weapon.
Honna fired.
His body arched, and he fell, convulsing on the floor. Honna’s lips pulled back into a triumphant grin.
Reena screamed. “Garat! Honna, stop please!” She lunged at her cousin, but a strangled sound froze her in her tracks.
She whipped around to find her mother wracked by seizures, guttural gibberish spewing from her mouth. Only the bloodshot whites of her eyes were visible as the orbs rolled back into her head. Then she stopped moving altogether.
Garat had stopped thrashing, too, and lay dead still on the floor.
Zzzzz. From sharp pain, numbness traveled from Reena’s wrist, up her arm, into her shoulder and beyond, draining sensation as it spread. “Mother! Oh Goddess, Garat!” “Mother!”
“Stop wailing!” Honna ordered.
Rage overpowered self-preservation. “You killed them!” She flew at her cousin.
Honna squeezed the trigger.
Hundreds of hot needles pierced the numbness before the world went black.
Chapter Twenty-One
Every cell in her body jittered. She ached as if muscles from eyelids to toes had cramped. Haze clouded comprehension. Solid beneath her was cold, hard stone, adding to the discomfort. Her stomach roiled with sickness. I thought I was cured.
“Reena. Reena.” A voice drifted from afar. She scrunched her forehead, trying to place it. Familiar…a Lahon? “You need to wake up.”
Don’t want to. She shook her head, certain that something lay outside the fog better not faced. “Reena!” The voice wouldn’t hush. It buzzed and buzzed, like the tingling in her wrist, threatening to dredge up painful memories.
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Her arm felt heavy when she lifted it and flung it over her eyes. A hand, rough and heavy, shook her shoulder. “Now,” the voice commanded.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
“You have to get up. There’s going to be an execution.” With that, Meloni—for she recognized the voice now—ripped away the protective veil. Garat—dead. Mother—dead.
Reena sprang upright. The room spun around a tilting floor. If she’d had anything in her stomach, she would have vomited. Meloni peered at her with an urgent gaze.
Tears welled and spilled. “H-h-honna killed Garat and Mother.”
Meloni sucked in a breath. “Garat is not dead—not yet. How do you know your mother…”
“S-she convulsed before Honna shot us with the EID. How do you know Garat is alive? Where is he?” She swiveled her head then blinked at the high, windowless walls. A barred door. Filthy chamber pot in the corner. Vermin feces. She thought she’d visited every corner of the palace—but she’d never gone to the dungeon.
“The guards who brought you said, under Honna’s orders, Garat will be executed just before sundown.”
“With my mother ill, and me supposedly dead, as the queen’s niece she is next in succession,” Reena said dully. Suddenly, it became crystal clear what her cousin’s motive was—and how far back she’d been planning her coup.
“There aren’t any windows here,” she said. “How will we know when it’s sundown?” Maybe they were already too late.
He glanced at the metal gate. “They haven’t thrown in the hunk of stale bread that passes for the evening meal, so I assume it has not happened yet. We must get out of here.” He stood up. “We have to find your mother first and then stay Garat’s execution.”
“My mother is gone.”
“No, she’s not.”
“I saw her.”
“She’s still alive.”
She wanted to believe him, but couldn’t. He hadn’t seen it.
