The Mirror King (Orphan Queen) (20 page)

They didn’t want to take chances. Good.

I dropped my pack on the small bed and knocked on the side of the wardrobe.

“My queen!” The wraith boy’s voice was muffled through the heavy wood. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Cover your ears and hum. I don’t want you to overhear what anyone is saying.”

Immediately, a deep humming came from within the wardrobe, followed by a double
thud
as his elbows hit the wood.

I turned to Tobiah just as James closed the door, cutting off
the flow of cold air. They’d left Sergeant Ferris outside. Interesting. “What is it you wanted to speak about?” Even though the wraith boy wouldn’t hear us, I kept my voice low.

Tobiah pulled a pair of notebooks from his jacket, not the ones I’d taken for the Ospreys and myself. These were pale blue, with silver foil mountains stamped into the leather. Flat braids decorated the edges, and silk bookmarks peeked out from the pages. They were identical. Pre-wraith, definitely.

“Thank you?” I lifted an eyebrow and didn’t touch them. Considering what I’d done last night, this couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I know about your entangled notebooks.” He offered these to me. “Perform the same magic on these two.”

“Why?”

When I didn’t take the notebooks, he placed them on the small writing desk at the foot of my bed. “You’re going into Aecor with my uncle. He’s threatened you. You’ve made it clear that you will not give up Aecor, so who knows what he’ll do? And Lien is there, waiting. What does he have in mind for your return? Not to mention that.” He motioned at the wardrobe. “Why do you think I’m sending James? Ferris is a good man. James is better. But I still need a way to communicate with him, quickly and securely. Only you have the power to offer that.”

So he hadn’t meant the second notebook for me. The realization fell halfway between relief and disappointment. “How did you know about the ones I animated for the Ospreys?”

Tobiah shifted his weight, uncomfortable at last. “Connor told me. He sent an urgent note to meet me in the gardens at the first hour. He sneaked past all the guards at the house, and went all the way to the King’s Seat.”

I frowned.
Connor
had sneaked out? And no one had known?
I
hadn’t known?

Tobiah blew out a breath. “I don’t know why he insisted on meeting in secret. I’d have gone to him, or had him brought somewhere warmer than the gardens. Guess it’s the Osprey paranoia.”

I crossed my arms and waited for the rest of the story.

“He was hoping there might be a way for you and me to mend our relationship—to keep you from going to Aecor. He’s worried. Terrified, though he did a good job of hiding it. But what happened at the wedding—that’s not the only reason you’re returning to Aecor.”

“It’s time for me to go.”

“That’s what I said to him, and he replied he was just relieved you’d still be able to write to him. The notebook magic was a slip.”

Sure it had been. Connor wasn’t normally what I’d call
calculating.
Maybe it was time to revise my view of him. But I said, “I see.”

“I’d be grateful for a way to communicate with my cousin while he’s away, though I understand if you refuse. I know your feelings on magic use have become more complicated lately.” He nodded toward the wardrobe where the wraith boy still hummed.

If I refused, I’d insult him yet again. And while annoying Tobiah didn’t usually bother me, maybe I owed him a favor.

“As long as you know what you’re asking.” I slipped around Tobiah to the desk and touched the smooth covers. He shifted his weight as though to look around me and watch, but I shot a
scowl and he moved back without a word. “
Wake up
,” I whispered.
“Be the same. What is written in one will be written in the other—at the same time and in the same hand—no matter the distance
.
”

Dizziness washed through me. Gasping, sweating, I swayed as blankness swarmed at the edges of my vision.

“Princess?” James’s voice was distant, but his hand on my shoulder was solid.

“I’m fine.” I’d leaned onto the desk, both palms digging against the wood. As my vision and stability returned, I breathed through the remaining light-headedness and stood, waving James off. “Thank you.”

He withdrew.

Magic this small didn’t usually hit so hard. But I hadn’t ever animated multiple things at once, and
kept
them animated. Add the wraith boy to that, and it was a wonder I was still standing.

I’d need to avoid using magic for a while.

“Your half,” I said, handing one notebook to Tobiah. “And your half.” I gave the second to James.

“Thank you.”

There was a hard look on the king’s face as he ran a finger down the notebook’s spine, as though feeling for the magic. “You can’t know what this means to me.”

Except I did, because I knew the bond he and James shared. I’d have given anything to be able to communicate with Melanie now.

Saints, I hoped she was well. Safe. Waiting for me in Sandcliff Castle.

Outside, a whistle blew, signaling the convoy’s imminent
departure. “You should see your uncle before we’re off,” I said.

Tobiah swallowed hard and met my eyes for a long moment. “Farewell, Wilhelmina.”

That was all.

THE CONVOY LEFT
Skyvale with much more pomp and celebration than it was really warranted. The cheers and bells followed us out of Hawksbill and on through Thornton, almost making me wish I’d stayed in my wagon, hidden and warm. But what I’d told Tobiah had been the truth.

I’d come to the Indigo Kingdom as a prisoner of war. I refused to leave in the same manner.

Through the crowded streets of White Flag, I was grateful for my hood, pulled low to hide my face, and my long cloak that concealed the fine cut and cloth of my dress. Ferguson plodded along near my wagon, but not so close as to give away my identity. James rode nearby, straight and tall on his own gelding.

At last, the city gate closed behind us, and the convoy began the long trek up the mountains, made difficult by the wagons and number of people. There had to be thousands of us.

“Are you doing well, Your Highness?” James asked as we
pulled farther from the city. Bare trees shivered around us. A cold wind gusted through the woods, and the sky turned silver and sharp with the scent of a coming storm.

“I’m fine.”

“How does it feel to go home for the first time in almost ten years?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

James drew his horse alongside Ferguson so he didn’t have to lift his voice. “I think I’d be nervous. It’s your home, but so many things have changed since you were last there.
You’ve
changed.”

“I said—”

“I know, but you’re not talking. I am.”

“So King Tobiah sent you to annoy me.”

“That’s one of the reasons.” He lifted his face to the sky, drawing in a long, deep breath. “Another is that I asked to come.”

I pulled my hood lower over my brow and glanced at the wagons rumbling and the soldiers calling and the horses snorting. A few flakes of snow escaped the clouds, drifting between the evergreen trees. “Did you want to see Aecor?”

James caught a snowflake in his gloved hand and held it while it melted. “I’ve been there before, with my mother when I was a small child. I don’t remember it, though. I don’t remember much from when I was young.”

“Not everyone does.” I relaxed my grip on Ferguson’s reins. “And some people remember more than they want.”

“You’re thinking of the One-Night War.” His eyes were gentle and understanding, and that was almost worse than the
blankness in Tobiah’s this morning. I didn’t want James’s pity.

“Do
you
remember the war?” I asked.

“Parts. I remember wanting to protect Tobiah when General Lien came for him. And I remember parts of the journey home.”

“You weren’t in Aecor that night.” I leaned forward as Ferguson climbed a steep hill. The rest of the convoy slowed on the tracks as the horses strained. Men pushed against the backs of the wagons, chanting to keep in step with one another.

“No,” James muttered. “I got hurt on the way there. The general left me to die, but the Indigo Army rescued me on the return trip.” A frown creased between his eyes. “I barely remember it.”

“The saints must be watching over you. Left for dead during the One-Night War, shot through the gut during the Inundation: you survived both.”

“I pray to all nine saints every morning and night. I suppose it’s working.” His smile was strained, though. “Your Highness, about the wedding—”

“Add the wedding to the list of things we’re not talking about.” I kicked Ferguson into a trot the rest of the way up the mountain. James kept up, but he didn’t push the conversation.

The convoy continued through lunch and the afternoon. I kept an eye on the soldiers and looked out for Prince Colin. But if he was riding, I couldn’t spot him among the indigo-jacketed men. More likely, he’d stayed inside his wagon. He wasn’t the type to suffer discomfort.

Snow came and went, but the air grew biting cold atop the mountains. By the time we passed the old palace—East Pass Watch—and I whispered good-bye to the place the Ospreys and
I had shared for so long, a film of snow covered the ground. At the foot of the mountains, the wide piedmont stretched white before us. The wagons continued over the tracks, steadier on the even ground. By the time the sun set and the convoy halted for the night, snow spat from the sky, stinging.

“I can take care of the horses and fetch dinner,” James said.

“I don’t need you to do my work for me.” I dismounted Ferguson, relieved to stand on my own aching feet again, and motioned at his horse. “Just unsaddle Ferguson the Second—”

“His name is Bear.” James loosened the saddle girth and unclipped the bridle.

“But he’s a horse.”

“Whose name is Bear.” James lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “Do you have a problem with that?”

I shrugged and started unsaddling Ferguson. “He’s your horse.” We worked in silence. James put away the saddles and the rest of the tack, then laid out blankets to cover the horses for the night. While he went to find our dinner, I finished brushing the horses, then covered them both in heavy wool. The snow fell harder.

Just as I was about to climb into my wagon, Prince Colin walked up and leaned against the doorframe, making it impossible for me to go inside without brushing his shoulder. All levity from teasing James evaporated.

“Your Highness.” My whole body felt heavy and stiff.

“I’m glad we’re taking this journey together,” he said. “I’m sure it will give us more time to get to know each other and discuss how best to proceed with such an interesting situation. The long-lost heir to the vermilion throne. And yet, I am the
Overlord of Aecor Territory.”

My hands fell beneath my cloak, and I touched the daggers at my hips. Even through my gloves, I could feel the smooth hilts, worn with use.

He mused, “What
shall
I do with you once we reach Sandcliff Castle?” If he noticed my weapon-ward motions, he didn’t show it.

“I know the castle well. I can think of several satisfactory arrangements.” Prince Colin and Patrick in the dungeon, to start with.

“I’m certain you can.” Prince Colin glanced downward, below my neckline. The crawling sensation fell over my skin, but it was only in my head. Not real. He hadn’t touched me, not ever. Not like the soldiers the morning I was arrested, and not like the guards trying to drag me to safety when Tobiah had been shot.

Swallowing hard, I resisted the urge to look around for James. He’d return soon.

My heart thumped as I took a measured step back from Prince Colin. Not a retreat. Something that could simply be shifting my weight.

He advanced a step, fully blocking the door. “You must feel terrible about what happened at my nephew’s wedding. That wraith creature, acting in your interests, but pulling you further from Tobiah. And even if he were to forgive you and take you as his wife instead, the people would never accept it. Meredith was well loved, like you will never be. That must be so frustrating for you.”

“This discussion is inappropriate. Meredith was killed only
days ago. And she was my friend, too.” I gripped the daggers at my hips and struggled to keep my expression impassive. He would
not
see the despair that hung below every word. Every breath. Every night, I dreamed of the wraith boy striding down the aisle, grabbing her, snapping her neck. I dreamed of her body, still and broken. I dreamed of his voice, so like mine, as he said, “He is yours now, my queen.”

No. Tobiah would never be mine.

“I was wondering.” Prince Colin rested his hand on the doorknob. “If your wraith can cause so much destruction in the Cathedral of the Solemn Hour, and the swift death of Lady Meredith, what kind of damage can he do to crush the rebellion in Aecor Territory? Lien wouldn’t stand a chance if you loosed that creature on the Red Militia.”

My heart thundered in my ears. “The wraith boy is not a weapon.”

“That’s all he is, Your Highness. A weapon. Why keep him if you will not use him?”

Snow stung my face. Soldiers hurried to their wagons, a few with their shoulders hunched against the cold wind. None of them looked at me, or noticed the way Prince Colin stood, possessive and predatory. I could take out my daggers and shove the blades deep into the crown prince’s stomach. I could slice so that his entrails fell to my feet. At this point, only dishonorable actions were expected of me anyway.

Or I could have the wraith boy kill him for me. Chrysalis could slaughter my enemies, just as Prince Colin wanted.

“He’s open to suggestion,” said Prince Colin. “Just hint to him that you wish Lien weren’t a problem anymore. That you’d
be happy if Lien were gone. The wraith boy wants you to be happy, after all.”

The wraith boy’s words from the other night came back to me:
A man came to my door. He said you were sad
.

“Did you say something to him about Meredith?” My words were a breath.

“I never said anything about poor Meredith to your wraith creature.”

Maybe that was true. Maybe he’d said only that I was sad, and the wraith boy filled in the rest; he
was
frighteningly attuned to me. But what if Prince Colin’s words had inspired the wraith boy to act? He could be partially responsible for Meredith’s murder.

Not that anyone would believe the testimony of a boy made of wraith.

The sun fell below the horizon, silhouetting the mountains far behind the convoy. In the pale caravan lights, Prince Colin’s smile was all sinister shadows. “Well. I’ll let you consider the options. It’d be best if we took care of Lien quickly. I know you have friends you care about back in Skyvale. I do, too.” A sharp gleam edged his smile. “Good night, Your Highness.” He stepped around me, his shoulder brushing mine.

My stomach turned at the contact; even through all the layers of clothes between us, he made me feel disgusting.

“Wil?” James’s voice was gentle as he approached with a large tray. He glanced beyond me, after Prince Colin. “What did he want?”

“Nothing.” I opened the wagon door and let James inside first. The interior wasn’t warm, exactly, but we were out of the
wind and a handful of lanterns cast a pale heat.

The wraith boy was still humming in his wardrobe.

“Are you going to tell him to be quiet now?” James asked.

“No.” I pulled down a polished oak board from the wall. The hinges creaked as I leaned some of my weight on it, testing its strength, and backed off to allow James to place our dinner tray on it.

“So you’ll just listen to him all night?”

“The rest of the journey, as long as humming keeps him occupied.” I lingered near one of the lanterns, warming my face and hands while James finished setting the table.

“I’m not here to spy on you, Wil, though I can understand why you might believe that.” He pulled out the desk chair and sat at the table. “But I do plan on telling Tobiah that you and Prince Colin had a conversation that left you shaking and cagier than normal.”

“That sounds like spying to me.” I perched on the bottom corner of the bed, close enough to the table. A cloud of spicy steam enveloped me, making my stomach rumble. “And I wasn’t shaking because of my talk with Prince Colin, unless you want to blame the extra time he kept me outside. It’s quite frigid. I’ll probably come down with a chill, thanks to him.”

James sighed and—once he’d muttered a quiet blessing over his meal—began to eat. “I miss the days when you were honest with me.”

“Oh, you mean never ago.” I poked my spoon through the soup, finding vegetables, chunks of meat, and spices. The thick broth warmed me from the inside out. James had also laid out generous slices of bread and cheese, and glasses of wine. “Yes,
I’m sure you are nostalgic for the weeks you and Tobiah knew I was a girl from the streets pretending to be Liadian nobility. Back when you didn’t know my real name, let alone anything about my magic. I was much nicer to you then.”

“Indeed. Much less sarcastic.”

“And Prince Colin resented me only because I was a lady who’d come to the wraith mitigation meeting, not a rival to his rulership of Aecor.”

“Is that what he was asking you about?” James was already halfway finished with his meal; he would have made a good Osprey.

I shook my head and finished my dinner.

“Well, I can’t force you to talk to me.” James drank the last of his wine and leaned back. The blue notebook came out of his jacket pocket, and he opened to the first page. “Tobiah says hello.”

I rolled my eyes and put my dishes into a neat stack.

“No, he did. Look.” James placed the notebook in front of me, and as promised, there was a note from Tobiah, which did include greetings to me.

James,

I hope all is well. Everything is different without you as my constant shadow.

Life is proceeding as expected. Uncle Herman has gone back to West Pass Watch, along with another regiment of soldiers. Reports from the west have not been good. I don’t want to fight two wars, but I’m afraid that may happen if Lien can’t be contained. I don’t know
what the answer is, though. I don’t trust my uncle. I don’t trust Wilhelmina right now, either, as grateful as I am for this way to communicate. The wraith boy . . . I don’t know. Something must be done.

Please write daily. I hope to hear from you soon. Give Wilhelmina my best.

Tobiah

I handed the notebook back to James. None of it was a surprise.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you.” James piled all our dishes onto the tray and set it by the door. “Earlier I said I asked to come along. There’s a reason.”

“Spying,” I reminded him.

“Besides that.” He flashed a smile. “After I was shot the night of the Inundation, I healed. I don’t even have a scar. Your friend Connor wasn’t responsible for it.”

“No.” I stood and folded the table back into the wall, and fastened it shut with a small hook. “I told you what happened. Tobiah said you were well, just not awake. He called me in to use my magic on you, even though it doesn’t work that way—”

He nodded toward the wraith boy’s wardrobe. “It doesn’t work
that
way, either.”

“You’re right. But he is made of wraith. You’re just a man.”