The Mirror King (Orphan Queen) (23 page)

BOOK: The Mirror King (Orphan Queen)
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“Thank you.” So much for catching up with Melanie tonight, let alone getting any rest. Once James left, I dipped my pen into the ink and wrote.

Hello, Tobiah. It probably won’t help to know that I didn’t intend any of this. . . .

TWENTY-SEVEN

IN THE MORNING,
I visited the wraith boy as promised, and then announced to James that we would be riding across the bridge.

“It’s warm out,” I said. A lie. The winter air was just as cold as it had been last night, but the sky was clear and bright.

And I was coming home a queen.

“Fine.” The groggy cant of his voice indicated he’d slept as little as I had. “As long as you know I think it’s unwise.”

“Your protest is noted.”

Ferguson was saddled for me—apparently queens didn’t saddle their own horses—and I climbed atop, the Ospreys and James flanking me.

Night wind had swept clean Snowhaven Bridge, leaving patches of white in the frothing gray water below. As the first wagons rumbled onto the bridge ahead of us, horse hooves rang and gulls cried long and loud. The birds perched atop
the passageway, and all along the bridge on posts. A few dove toward the convoy, looking for food.

Finally, we passed between the guard stations and stepped onto Snowhaven Bridge. For the first time since the war, I was off Indigo Kingdom land.

“Are you all right?” Melanie rode next to me, her eyebrows pushed together. Ronald and Oscar rode behind us, while James rode behind them; there wasn’t enough room for all of us to ride abreast.

“My chest hurts.” I glanced at Melanie. “My heart is pounding so hard.”

Her look of concern melted into a smile. “I know. Mine did, too, when we crossed to Northland. It still does. We’re going home, Wilhelmina.”

I lifted my face toward the rising sun as the sea wind whipped around me. Home. At last.

“Don’t get too eager,” Oscar said. “It will take all day to cross the bay.”

“All day?” I looked at him aghast. “I don’t remember Snowhaven Bridge being so long.” The only thing I could see ahead was the smooth line of stone and steel, a scattering of islands, and water all around. Patches of ice still glimmered on the bridge, evident where riders ahead slowed and directed their mounts around.

“All day,” Melanie said.

“What I wonder,” Ronald mused, “is how this thing was even built. It’s amazing the ocean hasn’t eaten it away by now.”

“This water isn’t as salty as the real ocean,” I said. “The rivers that feed the bay are all fresh.”

“Flashers built the bridge.” Melanie glanced back. “Centuries ago, flashers—radiants, then—raised the support islands from the bottom of the bay. They struck the towers into the seabed, and caused the steel frame to snake across the span of the water. They made the stone unfurl, and the cables hold fast. This bridge has stood through hurricanes, battles, and things you and I can’t even dream of. And it will stand for centuries more.”

I lifted an eyebrow at Melanie. “Did you read a book about the bridge?”

She laughed and ducked her head. “Yes. The library in Sandcliff Castle has several.
Snowhaven Bridge: a Modern Wonder of Aecor
is the best, in case you were wondering. It was written four hundred years ago, so very modern indeed.”

My heart warmed. Even during the chaos of war, Melanie had managed to sneak moments with books. That, I hoped, would never change.

“Seems incredible, given all the advantages flashers have offered, that the world turned against them.” Oscar nodded toward me. “You, I hear.”

“You’ve seen the wraith boy. You know about the wraithland.” I clenched my jaw. “I hate what happened to flashers as much as anyone else, but I understand why the world reacted like that. It’s fear.”

“Fear doesn’t excuse a hundred years of oppression and abuse,” Oscar said.

“No. But I understand the fear.” I reached forward to pet Ferguson’s mane and neck. “When I saw the way wraith twisted everything, how it killed and
changed
the world, I was horrified by my own magic. I hadn’t told the wraith to mutate the animals
or give trees teeth, but I felt responsible. I didn’t want to use my own magic ever again.”

Though I had. Almost right away. And a dozen times since.

“But—”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about wraith and magic now. I’m going home. That’s all I want to think about.”

“Then you’ll be thinking the same thoughts for a long time, Your Highness.” Prince Colin’s voice came from behind us. Everyone turned. “We won’t reach Aecor City until tonight.”

“So I’ve heard.” I nudged Ferguson to one side as Prince Colin rode even with me. “And the proper honorific is
Your Majesty
now, in case you’d forgotten how to address a queen.”

“That is actually what I wanted to speak to you about.” He looked better than one might expect, given his brush with death just last night. His cheeks were flushed with cold, but he was as immaculately dressed as ever, his chin high. The cut Patrick left had been cleaned and stitched. “You have no idea what you did last night, do you?”

“Give me some credit, Your Highness.” I forced my voice to stay calm, but tension knotted in my shoulders and neck. “I did what was necessary to stop the fighting and save lives.”

“You told the Aecorian people that you’re their queen. You undermined my authority as overlord, which I’ve worked to build for almost ten years. You acted rashly—”

I lifted a hand. “Patrick already undermined your authority.” My throat was tight, roughening my words. “While you were in Skyvale, he led a revolution in Aecor. If I hadn’t joined you on this journey, the Red Militia would have overwhelmed your forces, and you would have been brought to the courtyard
in Sandcliff Castle to be executed. Even if your troops had managed to get through to Aecor City, the whole city would have fought your return, and they’d have won.”

“No. They would not have. Aecor Territory is filled with my soldiers.” Prince Colin thrust a finger at me. “This was you. You gave in to his demands and declared yourself queen. Maybe that was your intention all along.”

I kept my voice low and cool. “I did it to save your life.”

The crown prince leveled a long, threatening glare at me. But unlike in my bedroom and the other day by my wagon, this one didn’t feel like a slimy touch and grope. This one felt . . . stronger. Deadlier. A hand around my throat, maybe.

“It seems, Your Highness,” James said, “that you owe Queen Wilhelmina your life.”

Prince Colin’s face turned darker. “It seems so.” He tore his eyes from me at last, looking back at James. “It would be wise for you to remember, Captain Rayner, that what Wilhelmina did last night might have appeased the peasants following the traitor, but it wasn’t legal. She is still a ward of the Indigo Kingdom, and Aecor Territory is still a
territory
. It is mine.”

“Not for long,” I whispered. “They are my people. They always have been.”

“Oh, we’ll make a good show tonight.” His eyes were back on me. “When we ride into the city, it will be as one. A united front. Overlord and queen. Two rulers who care deeply for the well-being of Aecor.”

“You’re afraid they will attack you.”

“With you at my side, I have no need to fear an uprising.” His smile curled up like drawing a knife from a sheath.

My fingers turned white around the reins. “Jump off the bridge and die, Colin.”

He released a sharp laugh and rode ahead, followed by a half-dozen indigo-coated guards.

“I hate him,” I muttered as Melanie returned to her position next to me.

“I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.” She rolled her shoulders and readjusted her seat. “But there is good news: riders were sent ahead. There will be dinner and baths waiting for all of us.”

“Sandcliff Castle has been updated with many of the same modern conveniences as Skyvale Palace,” Ronald added. “Apparently, Prince Colin refused to live there until gas lamps had been installed in every room he might enter, and plumbing in
all
the kitchens and washrooms, not just in the royal wing.”

I twisted in my saddle. “That castle is seven hundred years old! How could he rip it apart like that?”

The boys shook their heads. “It doesn’t hold the same meaning to him,” said Oscar. “But it doesn’t look as bad as you’re imagining.”

Skyvale Palace was only two centuries old, and updated severely when magic was outlawed. Prince Colin had always had the comforts of gas lamps and hot, running water, as well as a hundred other minor conveniences because of his rank and place of birth. He’d never known an orphanage or run-down castle in the mountains. He’d never been truly hungry.

His privilege didn’t excuse his behavior toward my ancestral home.

“Will you have the lights and pipes torn out?” Melanie asked.

“It’s already done, and we have more important problems to address.”

“Like what to do with Patrick.” Her voice was almost lost under the cry of gulls and hum of wagon wheels on steel. “And what will happen when you return to Aecor City with a small army from the Indigo Kingdom at your back.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

The marvel of being out of the Indigo Kingdom gave way to aching anticipation, and a melancholy note rang on the wind as we traveled the endless bridge.

Steel tower after steel tower plunged into the snow-streaked waves of the bay. At noon, we ate small lunches on our horses, and I listened to Melanie tell stories she’d learned from books in the Sandcliff Castle library, and the boys discuss how the battle had gone, and what certain people would think now that I was back and Patrick was going to prison.

Melanie pointed out Snowhaven Island, clustered in with a number of other islands filled with evergreen trees and water fowl. The bridge was anchored on the southern tip, and soon the convoy blocked my view, so the only thing to watch was the waves.

Finally, as the sun shifted behind us, I saw the pale scrape of land on the horizon, and the suggestion of towers in the south. My heart pounded as my homeland grew on the horizon, the cliffs becoming more solid and real. A lighthouse flashed and soon the end of the bridge was in sight. A pair of guard towers stood on the Aecor side, identical to the Indigo Kingdom side.

I kicked Ferguson into a trot, vaguely aware of James picking up his pace behind me as I maneuvered between riders. A
few people shouted for me to slow down or watch out, but when people ahead realized I was coming, they moved out of my way.

Without my urging, Ferguson shifted into a gallop, his hooves ringing across the bridge. Gulls cried and waves crashed. Wind tore at my clothes and howled in my ears, but I was close. So close.

“Wil!” James’s voice came from behind me. “It’s not safe to go so quickly!”

I didn’t care. Ferguson didn’t care.

“We’re almost home,” I whispered. We passed wagon after wagon until we were ahead of the convoy. I could feel Ferguson’s hooves slip on patches of ice, but he kept his footing. Then we were off the bridge.

Onto the dirt.

I reined him in and he slowed to a walk, snorting white clouds into the cold air. My heart thundered in my ears as I dismounted, legs wobbling with adrenaline and disbelief.

James caught up and leapt off his horse. “Wil, are you crazy?” He grabbed my shoulders. “You could have slipped right off the bridge!”

I laughed, high and giddy, and threw my arms around him. My eyes were heavy with tears from cold and wind and wild joy. “I’m home, James. I’m finally home.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

THE BELLS BEGAN
to ring as soon as the convoy started up the winding promontory.

Aecor City sat on a cliff side overlooking the Red Bay, where fishing boats were moored in the harbor. The rocky face glowed gold under the setting sun, crevices shadowed and fluttering with roosting eagles and gulls. Ospreys hunched in their stick nests, watching the noisy approach as the wagons were removed from the old iron tracks, their secondary wheels swung down.

I was home.

Peace had taken me home before war.

The thought swelled in my chest as we headed to the main city gates, carved from stone and reinforced with steel. The osprey sigil, framed by sharp ocean waves, shimmered in the setting sunlight. Enormous towers pierced the purpling sky, with vermilion banners hanging from the parapets. Trumpets sounded, and the gates cranked open.

Home, home, home
: the word thrummed in my head like a second heartbeat, distracting. I glanced at James behind me.

“When people came here from across the sea, Aecor was flat. Like any place that’s mostly coastal plains and marshes, it flooded. But the people loved the sea and couldn’t bear to leave, so radiants raised a plateau on which to build the city. Sandcliff Castle is carved from the land below it. It was built of this land, with this land’s magic, and for this land’s people. The keep held my ancestors for nine generations.”

Prince Colin’s smirk slithered onto his face.

Finally, the main gates finished opening to reveal Castle Street, a wide avenue leading up the hill and to the main keep.

People crowded along the sides of the road, lifting small children onto shoulders, while others climbed onto buildings or statues—anything that might offer a good view. Others leaned out windows and filled balconies. Their shouts shook the entire city.

The most prestigious shops lined Castle Street. They were meant to entice and impress visitors. Even now, with the city packed onto the street, merchants waved packets of spicy-smelling food, trinkets, and lengths of cloth. Black-coated police wove between the people, but no one paid them mind.

My heart pounded in time with the rising cry of my name: Wilhelmina, Wil-hel-min-a. The roar made my head spin with giddiness, and not even the gloom of Prince Colin’s stiff figure beside me could dim the fierce pride boiling in my heart.

Behind me, Melanie laughed and added her voice to the chorus calling my name. The Gray brothers roared.

We moved steadily up the road, our guards keeping the
people back. Their whoops and applause were thunder in my ears as evening faded into twilight.

Halfway to the castle, the crowd began to shift.

Little by little, they pressed closer. While the people at the gate had been eager to see us—me—I caught a group here shaking fists, and others with signs calling me an Indigo whore and traitor queen.

“What’s happening?” Prince Colin shouted at his guards. “What are they doing?”

Suddenly Ronald and Oscar were flanking me, their horses pressed so close to mine our knees touched.

“We’ll take you to the tunnels,” Ronald said. “It will be safer.”

“No!” I would not enter my family’s castle like a thief, never mind my criminal history.

“Wil, it’s not safe.” James had kicked his horse ahead of ours, and one hand rested on his sword. “Look, it’s getting worse.”

People spilled into the streets. Police moved to corral them, but were largely ignored.

The jeers crescendoed, with people forcing their way to the front of the crowd. Some hefted clubs or wooden planks. A small, metal object flew through the air ahead of me: a chain link.

Melanie gasped.

“We can’t make it to the tunnels anyway,” I said. The crowd was so thick, impenetrable. People climbed onto the buildings lining the streets to shout from above.

One person threw himself toward the street, but fell short
and took down three protestors. The gap closed immediately, trampling the jumper and his victims.

“Saints,” I breathed. My pulse raced as adrenaline spiked. This wasn’t just a protest; this was a
mob
.

“At least put your head down.” Ronald pressed his hand on my back, pushing me toward Ferguson’s neck. Stiff mane hairs tickled my face. No matter how hard I resisted, Ronald wouldn’t let me up. He leaned his weight onto me, and when I tried to twist my head, he called for his brother’s help. Oscar’s hand fell on the back of my head, heavy.

Cacophony sounded all around, people calling for Prince Colin’s head and the Indigo Army’s surrender. Thousands of voices filled the air, and with the brothers’ hands holding me down, I couldn’t even peek. The only thing I could see was a sliver of road where Ferguson and Ronald’s horse didn’t quite touch. Dirt, bits of metal, and debris were scattered across the paving stones. A patch of red-brown shimmered and splashed, and my small breathing space filled with the odor of blood.

Shouts roared. Our group jostled. Ronald’s hand slipped while Oscar’s fell away.

I pushed myself up to find lines of Indigo Kingdom and Aecorian soldiers surrounding us like a wall of bodies. Those in the front had created a wedge to drive apart the rioters who’d moved into the street. In the uncertain light, I caught glimpses of metal flashing: swords had been drawn.

The din was incredible, making the street tremble. Wood, stale food, and hunks of dirt zipped through the air. On rooftops and balconies, men and women drew bows and daggers.

They wanted to kill us.

The brothers jerked closer to me, and Ronald screamed. An arrow shaft protruded from one arm.

“No, no.” This wasn’t happening. Not here. Not at home. This should have been a celebration.

“Wil! Get down!” Melanie looked like she was about to climb onto Ferguson. If she lifted herself too high, she could be hurt. I started to duck again, but an explosion in the convoy—followed by an ear-piercing shriek—split the air.

“Wilhelmina.”

It came from behind us, overpowering every other voice in the city.

The wraith boy. Chrysalis.

Then the screaming began. At first just one or two people. Then more. Cries for people to run, flee, the wraith queen was angry—

Questions formed on the Ospreys’ faces.

“I need to get up,” I shouted, but no one listened. They were distracted with protecting me.

Panic swelled in my chest, and the more I tried to push it away, the tighter it grew. How had the wraith boy escaped? Unless he’d broken the mirrors, I could think of only one way: he’d erupted through the back of the wardrobe and the side of the wagon. There were no mirrors there.

“Wilhelmina!” His voice was closer, but he’d been in the middle of the convoy. There were so many people between him and me. And he’d kill them. Without thought. Without remorse. He’d kill them and leave me to carry the burden of their deaths.

“Stop!” I screamed. “Everyone stop!” I pushed away from
the boys, struggling to unpin my legs from between the horses. “Let me up!”

They wouldn’t listen. Even Ronald—with an arrow in his arm—tried to shove me back down and keep me from harm.

“I need to get up,” I screamed. “He’s coming. He’ll kill everyone to get to me.”

James would agree. He would help me. But I couldn’t find him anywhere.

Another explosion shuddered through the street, and more of the angry screams shifted into terrified. Some of the horses spooked, but the mob wasn’t as easily distracted. Arrows fell from some of the higher buildings, striking guards. Several dropped, making way for the stampede of rioters.

“Let me up!” I heaved away from the boys, away from Melanie, who was twisting to look over her shoulder.

Suddenly, I was on my feet, pushed and knocked around by the horses slowly marching down the street. Boots and knees struck me, but I shoved my way free of the line of horses—out from the protection of the guards.

“Chrysalis!” I couldn’t see him from the middle of the mob, but he had to be close.

Someone grabbed me. I struck back with my elbow and spun to find a man cupping his now-bleeding nose. “She’s here!” he cried, but the words were muffled and awkward. “The queen is here!”

Within moments, they surrounded me. Hands reached. Touched. Gripped my arms and ankles.

“Don’t hurt her!” someone called. “He said not to hurt her.”

Someone grabbed my hair.

I could draw my sword and fight them off, but then what? Kill my own people? Kill the very people I was trying to save from Chrysalis?

From the fore of the convoy, Melanie screamed my name. James did, too. But I couldn’t see them through the crowd. I was trapped. Someone pulled out a rock and drew back to hit me.

My daggers were halfway from their sheaths—the only weapons I could draw in these close quarters—when the man with the rock flew away.

“My queen.” Chrysalis took the man’s place and shoved aside a handful of people who’d grabbed me. The crowd rippled backward, finally realizing who—what—had joined them.

“Wraith!” Screams erupted anew, but there was nowhere for people to go.

“I was coming to get you,” I said to Chrysalis.

He knelt and offered a hand. “I will take you to safety.”

By carrying me? Or . . .

Chrysalis tilted his head and straightened his shoulders. “They grow restless for you, my queen.”

Heart pounding in my ears, I took the wraith boy’s hand, used his forward knee as a stair, and stepped onto his shoulders. When I was faced forward, the skirt of my gown safely behind his head, he stood, one hand clasped around my ankle to steady me.

My cloak fluttered in the wind as I rose above the crowd. People gasped and drew back. They pointed and the panic began to ease.

“Say something,” Chrysalis suggested. “You are their queen and they will never forget this moment, your triumphant return.”

Melanie, James, and the Gray brothers were ahead. There was no sign of Prince Colin or his guards, but he couldn’t have gotten very far in this madness.

And over everything, Sandcliff Castle rose against the darkening sky, interior lights dotting the windows like stars. Vermilion flags hung motionless as the wind died.

“So much has changed recently,” I called as the last of the voices ceased, and everyone waited to hear what I would say. “There has been so much death and destruction. So many battles for control of this city.

“Not ten years ago, my parents ruled Aecor. Some of you remember them. Some of you are too young.” I let my gaze travel over the sea of faces staring up. Men and women. Young and old. Angry and scared. “For nearly a decade, you were made to bow to a foreign king and his brother who called himself overlord. For nearly a decade you endured heightened taxes, drafts to the wraithland, and more.

“And then Patrick Lien returned, telling you I was a hostage in the Indigo Kingdom. There was fighting. Another shift in leadership. There was
fear
because of the unknown. But I am here to tell you not to fear. Because I am Wilhelmina Korte, rightful heir to the vermilion throne, and I have returned to Aecor.

“I was not a hostage in the Indigo Kingdom, but an honored guest as I negotiated for my return to power. As I negotiated for my return to you.”

Someone was crying. Others pushed forward to hear better. Chrysalis’s hand tightened around my ankle as he began to move toward the castle.

“I don’t blame you for your reaction as I return with Prince Colin at my side. But know this:
I
am your queen. And
I
will care for you. I’ve come with representatives of the Indigo Kingdom—my friends and advisers—but Aecor will not be under Indigo Kingdom rule much longer. Nor will you live under Patrick Lien again, wondering if the frightening things he tells you are true, and if the terrifying things he does will affect you next.

“This morning you were ruled by a tyrant. Tonight, your rightful queen returns, and I promise you this: I will protect you.”

A low cheer rolled through the crowd as Chrysalis and I reached the front of the convoy. Melanie and James hopped off their horses to make way for me, but it was unnecessary. No one wanted to get too close to the wraith boy. The threat was gone, for now.

Then, the chanting rose up again.

“Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina. Wil-hel-min-a.”

I glanced over my shoulder. An ocean of eyes looked up at me, some with tears making them shine.

Our procession moved through the gates of the inner curtain and finally the castle rose above me, blocking out the sky.

Melanie and James helped me off the wraith boy’s shoulders, and we all crossed the vast courtyard with wild, untended gardens, quiet fountains, and elegant but crumbling staircases that led to the main doors.

It was to the thunder of my name that I stepped back into Sandcliff Castle for the first time since the One-Night War.

The doors thudded closed behind me, muting the noise of my name. The Gray brothers were sitting on a nearby bench,
with Paige standing over them. She wore a simple, smart dress with nothing to indicate rank; she should have been a duchess.

“Ronald,” said Melanie, “get that arrow out of your arm.”

“Cordelia is coming. She’s our physician.” Paige looked up at me, hopeful, but greeting her would have to wait a moment longer.

I faced the wraith boy. “How many people did you kill?”

“I didn’t hurt anyone.” Chrysalis tilted his head. “I was very careful, because that’s what you wanted.”

Relief poured through me. “Very good.”

“Tonight’s demonstration won’t be the last.” Patrick stood at the back of his cell, hands clasped behind him. His shoulders were straight, and his feet a hip’s width apart. His eyes stayed level on me. “They will riot again, until you do something about Colin.”

The riot was Patrick’s doing. Of course. As punishment for us not returning in the way he’d wanted: with him as my general and future king.

James stepped forward as though to silence Patrick, but I held up a hand.

“Perhaps.” I lowered my voice and glared through the bars. “But you won’t be there to see it.”

He was a statue; the flickering light of the oil lamp danced across his face, making his scar flash. “Even if you do send Colin back to the Indigo Kingdom, the people won’t be happy. Not until you’ve sent away every one of the Indigo Kingdom’s soldiers. Until you’ve exiled or executed every one of the loyalists.”

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