The Queen of Blood (6 page)

“Excuse me?”

“You don't have what it takes. Anyone can see that. I'm not being cruel; I'm being honest.” Merecot paused, wrinkling her perfect forehead as if in thought. “Well, yes, I
am
being cruel, but the fact remains, you won't last.” She shut her door behind her.

Daleina stared at the closed door.

A second later, it reopened. “What?”

“You want me to doubt myself so I will fail,” Daleina said. “You want to undermine my confidence, because you're afraid you're not the best.”

Merecot's lips quirked into a smile that she tried to suppress. “I know I am the best. I just want you to quit sooner so I can have your room. You have the better view.” She shut her door again.

Behind Daleina, from the stairs, Revi said, “Nice. Guess she isn't here to make friends.”

“She could use an extra class on diplomacy.” Daleina thought of how Merecot had washed away the earth spirit in the maze. She hadn't had to help Daleina, Revi, and Linna. “Still, I like her.”

“No accounting for taste.” Revi opened the door to 27C and checked her own schedule. Tucked behind the schedule was a map of the academy, with class locations circled. “Hey, looks like we're in the same classes.”

Daleina compared the two schedules—she was right. She then calculated the time, based on the timepiece she'd seen in the headmistress's office. “And we're late to our first one. Come on!” Knocking on Merecot's door, she called, “Hurry! Class has started!” and then she grabbed the map of the academy and sprinted out to the stairs. The classes were held below the living quarters, above the dining hall.

Revi trailed after her. “How can we be late? We just got here!”

“They're going to make everything as unpleasant as possible, in hopes that anyone who is going to quit will quit and not waste their time. I'll bet anything that means we start today.” She ran faster down the stairs, and the two of them burst into a classroom that matched the number on their schedules. Other students shifted in their chairs, turning to watch them enter, proving that Daleina was right—and also late.

Slowing, they walked to two empty desks and sat. Trying to
quit panting, Daleina scanned the rest of the room—most were older students, their hair neatly tied back and their uniforms crisp and clean. A few with still-wet hair were new arrivals like Daleina and Revi. They faced the front of the room, with their backs straight and hands clasped on their desks. Several empty desks were scattered around the classroom, and Daleina wondered how many of the other new students were missing their first class. Not everyone had even met with the headmistress yet. She didn't see Linna, though the caretaker's daughter, Mari, was already there, with her wet hair impeccably braided.

Only a few moments later, Merecot strolled into the room. Her hair, Daleina noticed, was dry. She had no idea how Merecot had managed that. Sitting beside Daleina, she opened her notebook and dipped a quill into an inkpot. She waited, quill poised.

Oh no, I didn't bring anything
.

Looking around, Daleina saw everyone else had notebooks and textbooks, except her and Revi. She hadn't thought to grab one; she wasn't even sure she owned one. She hadn't checked the desk for supplies. Without even glancing at her, Merecot handed Daleina an extra notebook.

“Thank you,” Daleina whispered.

Merecot ignored her.

“Hey, do you have another extra?” Revi whispered.

“No.”

“Just ‘no'?”

“Shh.” Merecot put her finger to her lips and then pointed at the teacher.

“You can share with me,” Daleina whispered to Revi.

The teacher was, to Daleina's surprise, a man. She'd expected them all to be female, since only girls were born with an affinity for spirits. He was older, with tufts of white hair, and he shuffled as he paced in front of his desk. Mid-lecture, he didn't acknowledge the new, late arrivals, and Daleina was grateful for that. It was bad enough to have the other students staring at them. “. . . in the third generation, the queen of Semo worked in concert with the queen of Chell to shrink the eastern mountains, in order to create what would become the northern fields of Chell.
Doing so eased the burden here”—he tapped a map on the wall, one that showed all of Renthia—“but forced upheaval in the west. Literal upheaval. This mountain range increased in size by thirty percent. The results would have been catastrophic if the region hadn't been evacuated . . .”

Daleina focused on the map. She'd never seen such a detailed one of all of Renthia. It showed the five lands: their own Aratay with its vast forests, the mountains of Semo, the farmlands of Chell, icy Elhim, and the island chain of Belene. Beyond the known lands were the untamed wilds, where no humans lived. At the heart of Aratay was their capital, Mittriel, drawn in minute detail, with its interlocking trees and spiraling pathways. The Northeast Academy was, as the name suggested, in the northeast corner of the capital. Other academies were located in other cities, each drawn with as much care.

“Consequences,” the teacher said, thumping his desk. “Every command has consequences, whether it be large like the thrust of the plates of the earth, or small like the life of a butterfly. You must think through all the ramifications before you act, or you will forever be reacting. And reacting poorly. Turn to chapter two, and we will discuss those whose reactions did
not
bring about the desired effect . . .”

History and politics class ended with the assignment of reading, plus a paper on the relations between Aratay and the neighboring land of Semo for the past fifty years. It was due in three days. Daleina and Revi hurried next to magical theory.

The teacher for magical theory acknowledged the new students by making them stand at the front of the class and answer a barrage of questions: how intelligent are spirits (it varies), can any female develop an affinity for spirits (yes, it can manifest in any family), can anyone with an affinity learn to sense spirits (yes, with proper training), can spirits sense humans (no, but they're drawn to the use of power), and so on. “Correct, correct, correct,” the teacher, Master Bliara, said. “Now, tell me what happens when a queen dies.”

“Death,” Merecot said.

“Correct. After a queen dies, the spirits are released from her commands and obey only their base instincts, causing upheaval in the land and slaughtering any humans they find. Many years ago, it was discovered that women with affinity, working together, can override these instincts if and only if they issue one specific command. And what is this command that renders the spirits powerless?”

All of them chorused,
“Choose!”

“Correct! This command triggers an almost hibernation-like state in the spirits, suspending their powers and their will. They remain in this state for seven days—a boon for us because it allows us time to gather our best heirs in the Queen's Grove. After seven days, the spirits choose the best heir to be queen and infuse her with enough power to command them all.”

One of the students raised her hand. “But why? I mean, they hate us. Why give one of us more power?”

“Ahh, excellent question, Zie. It's the wonder of nature, protecting herself, ensuring the continuation of the species. Why does a river fish swim for miles and miles to reach a particular bank to lay her eggs?” The master paused. “That was not rhetorical, students. Marilinara?”

“Because it's safer there? Or the water is better for baby fish?” Mari glanced around her as if checking to see if anyone else had a better answer. Daleina was glad she hadn't been chosen to speak. She didn't want to be singled out on the first day—especially not about fish. “There must be something about that spot that makes it more likely that her offspring will live.”

“Ah, but does the mama fish think to herself, ‘Oh, that riverbed is a delightful place to raise children? It has nice weather. Great schools . . .' Please, you may laugh at my pun.”

No one laughed. Daleina managed a smile, which seemed to be enough for Master Bliara. She continued on. “No! The mama fish doesn't
think
. She doesn't decide in a rational way, weighing the pros and cons. It's instinct! The same for the spirits. They act on instinct. Even the intelligent ones are ruled by their instincts. Do not expect them to think like we do. They can be smart, but
do not mistake that for human logic. Now . . . what are the two primary instincts that drive the spirits?” The master looked directly at Daleina.

Daleina shrank back, and then squared her shoulders. “To kill humans.”

“And?”

“To . . .” Daleina glanced at Revi and then at Merecot, who was watching her with a faintly amused expression. “Well, fire spirits start and spread fires. Wood spirits grow trees . . .”

“Precisely. To destroy and to create! And what is the problem inherent in those two instincts?” The master continued to look at Daleina expectantly.

Daleina swallowed.
Why me?
There were plenty of other students in the class, including older students who probably knew exactly what answer Master Bliara was looking for. Daleina hadn't even seen, much less read, any textbooks yet. “They're contradictory?”

“Exactly.
That
is why they crave a queen. As much as they hate us, the spirits need a queen to manage that contradiction and keep them—and our land—balanced. But never be fooled into thinking that
needing
a queen is the same as
wanting
a queen. A queen must never forget that the spirits both require and revile her.”

A traitorous thought sneaked into Daleina's mind:
Why would anyone want that kind of life?
She squelched it down. Like the spirits themselves, she wasn't here because of what she wanted. She was here because of what was needed.

“You will each write a ten-page research paper on the positive and negative effects of this unique command, quoting historical sources, as well as speculation on
why
it's effective, due by the end of the week.”

Last class of the day was something called survival skills.

Daleina and Revi, as well as Linna, who had missed the earlier classes, found their way down to the practice ring. This was the first class of the day with only the new students. Clustered by the waterfall, they all held their books
and notebooks and wondered if they were supposed to sit or stand. Only thirteen out of the original twenty had made it through the entrance exam. Daleina had heard a rumor that one applicant had gone home with a broken leg, another with a concussion, and a third with burns on her hands so bad that her fingers looked shriveled. Daleina realized she'd been lucky to pick the path she did and find the other girls.

“I can light a fire with sticks and string,” Linna said. “If that's on the syllabus, I'll help you. Do either of you know any other survival skills?”

“I can recognize a few edible plants,” Daleina offered. She knew more than a few. Living in the outer forest, she had to scavenge for a lot. It was one of her primary tasks for Mistress Baria, finding the correct herbs for the hedgewitch's charms and meals.

“I don't know anything useful,” Revi said. “Oh, wait, yes, I have the secret ability to mock anything and anyone who threatens me.”

“A terrifying power,” Daleina said solemnly. “Use it wisely.”

Leaves rustled behind them, and the students turned in time to see a wolf trot out from between the manicured trees.

A wolf.

Here.

Its pelt was thick, and its muscles were bunched. Stopping at the edge of the trees, it bared its teeth and growled, a low rumble that Daleina felt in the base of her stomach. Her muscles froze. She didn't run, twitch, or even breathe.

From above, a voice said, “You encounter a wolf in the forest. What do you do?”

Merecot answered first. “Summon an earth spirit to pull it into the ground.”

“Or merely to hold it still,” Mari said, shooting a look at Merecot. “You don't need to kill the poor thing.”

“The ‘poor thing' wants to eat us,” Merecot argued. “I say it should be discouraged from thinking humans are lunch. We have enough enemies.”

Another girl raised her hand. “A water spirit could wash away
the ground under its feet. Make it difficult for the wolf to chase us.”

“Air spirit,” another said. “Throw it into the air.”

“Or make the spirit push it back.” Another.

Ideas flew around them: making a tree spirit wrap the wolf in vines, creating a hole beneath him, blowing a tree down on him, and setting his fur on fire. As the others talked, the wolf paced back and forth.

Daleina opened her mouth to say that maybe the best thing to do was
not
to stand in front of it, discussing options, but the others were talking too loudly for her to squeeze in her opinion. She tugged on the sleeve of her closest classmate. “Linna? Revi? Merecot? We should climb, while we can.” But they were all too involved in the discussion.

With her eyes on the wolf, Daleina inched toward a tree. The wolf was watching the students who were talking most animatedly. There was something not right in the way it was behaving.
It should have fled,
she thought,
or attacked
. Looking at it, Daleina became more and more convinced that it wasn't there to prompt a theoretical discussion. “They're testing us, always, remember? Including right now.” Daleina stepped onto a branch and climbed up onto it. She continued to move slowly, smoothly, as she climbed several branches up, until she was beyond the wolf's reach, even if it were to rise onto its hind legs. As one of the girls stepped forward to be heard, the wolf snapped. It darted into the group, aiming for the closest girl.

The girls screamed and ran.

Low and fast, the wolf chased them, snapping at their heels.

“Grab my hand!” Daleina called. Leaning over, she reached out. Revi got to her first, and Daleina helped pull her up to the branches. Linna was second.