Read Shadow Queen Online

Authors: B.R. Nicholson

Tags: #death, #magic, #maiden, #violence, #phooka, #goblin, #queen, #weapons, #fantasy, #reaper, #elves, #blood, #dwarves, #shadow, #astrid, #monsters, #cloud

Shadow Queen (9 page)

BOOK: Shadow Queen
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“I don’t understand,” Ilsie said, her voice
quivering. “Merrick, please, what’s happening?” She reached out for
him again and grabbed his hand. It was shaky in her grasp.

“Ilsie, if I don’t kill them, the council
will kill you, me, Ethen—everyone we love. We have no choice—”

“—
them
?” Ilsie gazed back into his icy
blue eyes. “This isn’t just about Luka, is it?” She dropped his
hand and punched him hard in the chest. “Damn it, Merrick! Tell me
the truth!”

“Astrid…” he said, his words failing him. He
looked away again, his mask of contempt cracking under the weight
of Ilsie’s cries. She pounded on his chest, wanting to hurt him as
much as he had hurt her.

“Ilsie, she has to die. They both do,” said
Vintas. It was the softest she had ever heard his gruff voice. He
reached out to touch her shoulder. She jerked away and sobbed in
Merrick’s embrace.

“Please, Merrick! Please…” her words faded as
Merrick lifted her chin in his hands.

“It will be easier for them with your help,”
he said, wiping the tears from her face. “They would never have to
be in pain. They would just… slip away.”

Ilsie pushed herself away, disgusted by her
brother’s request. “You wish for me to poison them? You want me to
kill our
children
?”


You have no choice
,” said the Grand
Sage. “
I will not risk the lives of my people for the sake of
your wicked family!”
The old crone rushed Ilsie, her gnarled
hand latching onto Ilsie’s wrist. Her touch burned, sending howls
pouring from Ilsie’s lips. The pain drove her to her knees. The
room spun around her as the Grand Sage’s words seeped into her
mind. “
You will do this or you will suffer a much more terrible
punishment than death.
I have survived far too long to be
ruined by your ignorance.

Jagged scales stabbed through the blistering
skin of Ilsie’s arm. With large, terrified eyes, Ilsie nodded, her
sobs pleading. “Yes, I’ll do it—just please stop!”

Ilsie looked up at the Grand Sage, a wicked
smile etched in her ancient face. “Hurry, child,” she said,
releasing Ilsie’s mangled arm, “before they get away!”

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Wilhelmina smirked as she traced her scythe
across the Anvalin’s surface. A swirl of inky black jettisoned
across the blue stone, tormenting the souls held inside. She
smiled, reveling in their shrieks.

“There’s something intoxicating about an evil
woman,” said Luthen as he slithered his arms tight around her
waist. “Perhaps that’s why I can’t keep my hands off you.”

She laughed, pulling him closer. “I’m sure
you’ve said the same to your child queen.” Her words are bitter in
her mouth. She hovered near his lips, tempted to kiss them.
Disgusted, she pushed him away instead. No elf was going to make a
fool of her.

“Crossing me is a very dangerous thing to do,
Luthen,” she said, weighing the well-balanced scythe in her hands.
Its deadly silver glinted in the Anvalin’s light, thirsty for the
taste of blood and blackened souls. “It would be far too simple a
thing for me to take from you what I have given.”

Luthen laughed, dismissing her threat with a
wave of his slender hand. “Wilhelmina, my darling, I know far too
well what you’re capable of… crossing you is the farthest thing
from my mind.”

“Why do I doubt that,” she said, casting her
eyes away from his handsome smile. Its warmth sickened her, making
her clench her grip around her scythe all the tighter.

“Anya is only merely a single piece in
our
plan. She is
needed
—at the moment, anyway,” said
Luthen. He brushed his fingers against her chin, turning her face
toward his. In the pale light of the Anvalin, his eyes looked
almost their natural blue. A slight glimmer revealed the hollow
black beneath.
The perfect shade to match his soul.

“How has your master been fairing, these
days?” The question struck Wilhelmina off guard. Luthen smirked at
her sudden slip of composure.

“Death has seen better days, but alas the
poor bastard is still—well, for lack of a better word—
alive
.
He has also grown quite suspicious. I can only hide this from him
for so long…” her words trailed off into silence. She gripped her
scythe hard, squeezing it until her hands burned. She could feel
the buzzing of the souls it contained. “I’m not sure how much
longer I can keep them under control.”

“Just long enough to offset the balance, my
darling. This city—
Limra
—I know it will be the one to tip us
over the edge toward victory. Surely, Death must be growing weaker!
He won’t be able to control his precious realm when we finally lay
our fingers on the scale,” said Luthen. His smile stretched taunt
across his porcelain face as he brushed his thick raven hair from
his face. He was a sight of beauty tainted with pure madness.

Wilhelmina could sense he would bring her
demise. Luthen was nothing more than a fireball raining down from
the heavens, destined to destroy all in his path.

“Yes,” she said, a smile tugging at the
corner of her mouth. “He will grow weak and we will rule. Death
will reign over the living, the dead, and everything that has ever
been.”

Yes,
she thought as she drew near to
him,
he will surely destroy me
.

 

 

***

 

 

Astrid woke to a cold empty bed. The candles
had died down to shallow stumps and the early morning air was
still. The storm had ceased its battle, at least for the
moment.

“Luka?” Her voice cracked, sounding weak in
the darkness. A rustling of feathers brought her to her feet. She
grasped her familiar table cloth and snatched it up around her
nakedness.

“It’s time to go,” he said, slipping a bundle
of slick leather garments into her arms.

“These aren’t mine—”

“They’re from Fryx. He feels you’ll look more
the part dressed in black,” he said with a soft laugh. “He even
found you a mask. He said something about it being your
trademark
.”

Astrid scoffed at the thought. “A mask? That
wasn’t exactly the idea at the time…
where are my
things?”

“Shh… don’t worry. I have your knives. And
this…” He held out the blossom in his hand. Astrid snatched it from
his grasp, anxious to see it intact.

“You don’t seem like a flower type of girl,”
he said, tossing her hunting knives onto the bed. “Of course, you
don’t seem to be like a lot of girls—”

“—and what in the hell does that supposed to
mean?” She threw the bundle of clothes down on the ground and
pushed him toward the door. “For that remark, you may wait on the
other side
of the door.”

Astrid shoved his great mass of feathers
through the door and shut it with a slam. She threw the latch down
in a huff and tossed the rumpled table cloth aside.

How dare he—

She lit a lantern, snapping the fuel wide
open to burn a tall, blue flame, and slammed it back down on its
table. She could hear the stirrings of others both in the hall and
neighboring rooms, but the groans and irritated shouts only fed her
rage.

How dare he act like nothing happened!
She struggled against the new under clothes, her skin uneasy
against such soft material.
How dare he cluck around, bringing
me my clothes and criticizing my every more as if he were of those
damned gobliness handmaidens!

Astrid tore loose the leather gear and jerked
it onto her limbs. She cursed between gritted teeth at the foolish
notions of love that had previously floated around her head.

How the hell did I let myself get tangled up
in all this?

She spat at the disheveled bed, disgusted
that she let herself be so easily charmed. She pulled her black
silk blouse over her head with a harsh tug, not caring if it ripped
to pieces. Her fist punched their way through the sleeves of the
smooth leather jacket while her feet kicked their way into tall
black boots. Her livid fingers slammed the silver fasteners shut
with a deadly
snap
.

Astrid bent to scoop up the dreaded mask from
the floor. She paused, gazing at its smooth exterior. Her eyes
wandered upward to a mirror hanging shyly on the back wall.

She blinked several times before recognizing
the figure standing before her.

For the first time in almost a decade, her
hair was free of the red desert clay and was its natural smoky
brown. It cascaded down her shoulders, a river of shimmering ink.
The smooth black leather was suddenly recognizable—
dragon’s
hide.
It was a garment suitable for only the finest of
warriors. She ran her fingers over the hide, awestruck over such a
gift.

A sharp rapping from the door broke her
trance. “We need to leave,” said Luka, “
now
.”

Astrid rolled her eyes, trying hard to hide
her smirk even behind the latched door. She wrapped her hair into a
simple braid and coiled it into the hood of her jacket. Her eager
hands brought the mask to her face. It covered the top portion,
down to the tip of her nose—just enough to appear menacing in the
face of an enemy. The mask slid perfectly onto her face, the silken
ties slipping over her hair as if custom made. She lifted the cowl
of the fine jacket and draped it over her brow.

“Astrid! I mean NOW.” The door creaked as
Luka fought against the stubborn wood.

She snatched her knives from the bed and
wrapped the matching black belt around her waist. In her rush, the
small blossom flew from the where it clung onto her knives and
twirled helplessly to the floor. Her heart stopped, fearing she had
crushed it in her haste.

Astrid swooped down and plucked the gentle
flower from between her boots. Its petals were wrinkled but still
strong. She brought it to her lips, brushing its soft velvet
against them in a gentle kiss.
For luck
, she thought as she
tucked it into a well-guarded pocket inside her jacket.

“ASTRID!”

She ripped a silken rope from the tattered
canopy of the bed and tested its strength in her hands.
Good,
she thought,
a sand-spinner’s silk. There’ll be no
cutting this.
She then doused the lantern and blew out the
candles with a quick breath of air. She crept to the door and slid
the latch off with a dull
click
. The door swung open without
a sound. Luka stood, open-mouthed, his eyes squinted as he gazed
into the darkness.

Astrid hung above him, supporting herself
between the heavy door frame and the ceiling. Luka stepped inside
and lit the room with his rosy light. She swung her body on the
door frame and guided herself to the floor.

In one swift movement, she slammed the door
shut. She slipped the knotted rope over the handled and tied it
tight around a large scrolled handle of the door across the
hall.

As soon as she pulled the final knot tight,
the door erupted with a fury of Luka’s fists.

“ASTRID! Let me out! NOW!”

“It seems I’ll be on my way now,” she said,
her voice musical with laughter.

The banging grew fiercer. She could feel the
eyes peering at her from the darkest parts of the hall. Astrid
shrugged, turned on her heel and sprinted down the hall. She was
eager to be done with this place. The sooner she could do this
final favor for Fryx, the better.

Astrid skidded into the main hall straight
into Ethen. He looked frazzled and half-asleep, with the remnants
of breakfast dangling from the scruff on his chin.

“Ah, just the Warrior I wanted to see,” she
said as she grabbed him by the arm.

“Now just wait a bloody moment! Who the hell
are you? And where the hell do you think—”

“—Relax, fair maiden, you and your bow are
being recruited,” she said. She could see Fryx and his party of
pinched-faced goblins waiting for her though the open entrance of
the villa.

“Astrid? But where’s Luka?” He struggled
against her grip but failed, tripping on his tired feet. “You could
at least let me walk on my own!”

Fryx’s weary face lit up when he saw her.
“Ah! You look quite deadly this morning! Hopefully enough to
dissuade the bastard assailing Limra from trying to cross us…
Where’s Luka?” He looked from her to Ethen as his face settled into
a grimace. “This isn’t what we agreed.”

“I don’t recall agreeing to much of
anything,” said Astrid, finally releasing her iron grip on Ethen’s
arm. “From where I see it, you need me much more than I need you.
And I need someone I can trust in case things don’t—
go as
planned
. Your goblins may be armed to the teeth, but if things
turn sour I don’t want to be stuck fighting alongside a
stranger.”

Fryx’s expression darkened. “A
stranger
? After all he has done for you…” His voice, though
soft, cut her to the bone. “Very well. Let us go.”

 

 

***

 

 

Merrick watched Ilsie with narrowed eyes as
she laced the sharp black needles with poison. He snatched them
from her and tucked them deep in his jacket.

“Do you have any idea where they are?” She
said, avoiding his gaze.

“Yes,” he said. “At least Luka. The Grand
Sage was able to track him to a merchant’s villa outside Limra.” He
could see her defeat etched in the fine wrinkles on her face. “How
is your arm?”

“It burns,” said Ilsie, clutching the
afflicted arm to her chest. “The scales are spreading.”

Merrick nodded, empty of words.

“We should be going,” she said. She rose from
the table and drifted out of the cottage, her movements lifeless
like a ghost. Merrick followed her out and onto the rocky path that
would lead them to Limra.

The clouds had broken up overhead and instead
were gathered in a giant black cluster over Limra. Lightening
illuminated tall, ghastly white towers hidden in the towering
mass.

BOOK: Shadow Queen
2.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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