Tiger Queen

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Tiger Queen Page 27

by Annie Sullivan


  So did the tiger.

  I rolled to my feet.

  The tiger was gaining on Dimic as they raced to the edge of the arena.

  Dimic leapt onto the fallen bit of railing, balancing on the thin beam and climbing up, disappearing into the crowd.

  But the tiger didn’t stop. It pounced over the railing and into the crowd too. People ran everywhere.

  I moved toward the chaos.

  Cion, free from his shackles, was ahead of me, running to make sure his brother made it away safely and that the tiger didn’t hurt anyone else. He clutched the sword Dimic had been carrying in one hand and had the other wrapped around his still-healing side. I raced to catch up with him. I wanted to tell him to get away from the arena, but I knew he wouldn’t go. Not until Dimic was safe. Not until everyone was safe.

  The tiger was tearing its way through the stands. Several guards had spears pointed at it. It leapt forward, breaking a spear with its paw and biting into the guard’s leg. The tiger whipped the man around, knocking him into the other nearby guards.

  I lost sight of Cion and Dimic as I hauled myself up the broken railing into the stands and ran through the wake the tiger created.

  I raced along several rows below the tiger, dodging fleeing bodies. I saw the path the beast would take and dashed up a staircase to cut it off.

  Halfway up the stairs, I nearly ran straight into my father. I skidded to a stop.

  My chest heaved from running and my breaths were uneven.

  He stood staring down at me, just as he’d always done, as chaos filtered around us. His lips were tight, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen them.

  I’d done what I’d always feared. I’d made him look weak.

  Yet I didn’t feel weak in response. I felt strong. As strong as the desert.

  “The people will have to pay for what you’ve done,” he said. He pulled his sword from his scabbard. The hiss of the metal echoed around us.

  “They’ve suffered enough under your rule,” I spat back. I raised my sword and pointed it at him, my chest shaking with rage at the thought of how many third children—tiny babies like the ones Insa cared for—had died because he’d been too afraid to lose his throne. “Your fake drought, your two-child law, your tiger trials. It all comes to an end now.”

  “You wouldn’t even have people to rule if it weren’t for my actions. When the water returned years ago, I knew they’d all want to leave if I gave it to them.” He slowly advanced down the stairs toward me.

  I took measured steps back, keeping him in my sights because I knew the height gave him the advantage.

  “How long?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice level. “How long has the drought really been over? How long have you kept these people chained to you when you knew there was plenty of water, when you knew you could’ve ended the two-child law?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he spat. “The desert started the drought so that I could continue it, so I could continue ruling over my people.” He glared down at me. “That’s what you never understood, Kateri. If you don’t control the people, you don’t control anything.” The crown atop his head gleamed in the early morning sun as he continued his slow, regal saunter down the steps. “Do you really think any of them would stay now if they had enough water to cross the desert?”

  “Achra could’ve rebuilt. It could’ve become even greater under your rule—under our rule.” My back hit the railing. The heat of it burned through my dress. I kept my sword aimed at his chest. “But you never wanted me to rule.”

  He sneered. “You were weak, like your mother. I constantly had to bandage your wounds, to make sure you’d be capable of fighting again. But even a rat like Rodric who crawled out of the desert could beat you.”

  “Is that why you adopted him to be the son you were never able to have after you killed your own wife and daughter? You chose a Desert Boy over me?”

  “Prove it to me,” he said. “Prove I should’ve picked you over Rodric. Prove to me that the desert didn’t send him to us because he was the better choice.” He swung his sword toward my chest.

  The railing behind me shook as I blocked the blow and knocked it to the side.

  Again and again he swung at me.

  “Show me,” he screamed. The crown shook on his head. His blows started coming faster and faster.

  I swung my sword at a dizzying pace to keep his from biting into my flesh.

  Gritting my teeth, I braced against the railing. After his next hit, I shoved off. He wasn’t prepared for my attack. He stumbled backward, tripping over the steps.

  I knocked his sword away as he lay sprawled across the stairs. I pointed my blade at his collarbone. My chest shook, and my heart raced. “Is this proof enough for you, Father?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I should’ve realized long ago the desert gave me those tigers to make up for you, for your weakness, because if you were truly my daughter, you would’ve already killed me.”

  I took a deep breath as his words struck me. “You’re right,” I said. I pulled my sword away and took a few steps back.

  Just as I did, a woman to my left screamed.

  The tiger had torn a gash across her stomach and was barreling right toward us.

  I threw myself backward, dropping over the railing into the sandy arena.

  My father stood.

  The tiger turned toward him.

  He’d always thought he was master of the tigers. Maybe that’s why he didn’t even go for his discarded sword. Maybe he honestly thought the beast would recognize him as its superior.

  But the tiger headed straight toward him, as though it had been looking for him. A paw rushed forward, raking down my father’s chest.

  My father crumpled forward and lay there as blood pooled around him. His head was turned toward me. His crown rolled away. His eyes stared, unblinking. That was the closest they’d ever come to holding any warmth.

  I clenched my teeth and refused to shed a single tear over his death. He wasn’t worth returning water to the earth over.

  The tiger bounded over him to chase a guard up the bleachers. I spotted Cion in pursuit.

  I moved to follow him, but a figure dropped into the arena in front of me.

  Rodric.

  His eyes swung up toward my father’s lifeless body.

  “I guess that means I’ll be king sooner than I expected,” he said.

  I brought my sword up between us. Sunlight glinted off the blade. “You’ll never be king.”

  “Why wait for your birthday? Let’s find out now.” He pulled out a sword. But it wasn’t a normal blade. It was Cion’s sword. “Like it?” he asked. “I found it in the tunnel leading to the southern well after my men worked tirelessly to block off the tunnels once more.”

  My throat was dry. My legs ached. My muscles felt as empty as my stomach.

  This was the moment I’d been dreading since I ran away. But I wasn’t that same girl.

  I threw myself into an attack.

  My sword glanced off his. I positioned for another advance. I watched his body for slight movements like I had in the shifting hills.

  He went straight for my neck. I knocked the attack away.

  He alternated stabbing at my right and left side, but each time his shoulder hinted which direction he was going.

  He let out a frustrated grunt as I knocked aside another hit.

  I lunged toward him. He stepped to the side and then brought his arm crashing down on my outstretched one. The weight of the blow loosened my sword, and it fell to the dirt. He swung at me. I rolled under the blow, grabbing my sword as I went. I ended up in a crouching position facing him. And just as I brought my eyes up, his foot launched forward, spraying my face with sand.

  It burned into my eyes. I resisted the urge to rub them. Instead, on instinct, I dove to the side.

  A sword thunked into the sand where I’d been crouching.

  I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but that only made more tears appear.

/>   I clamped my eyes shut. It was nearly impossible to hear anything above the din of the crowd.

  There. A footfall coming from my right.

  As soon as I sensed he was close enough, I whipped my foot out, tripping him. He thudded onto his back. I rolled the opposite way and got to my feet just as he did.

  “I see Cion threw sand in your eyes too,” Rodric said, giving a clear indication of where he was.

  I ignored his words and focused on his feet. I scrambled backward every time I heard him come forward. But I couldn’t let him drive me all the way to the wall. We were nearly back at the post Cion had been chained to.

  My vision cleared enough to make out his shape coming toward me.

  I lunged forward, hoping he wouldn’t be expecting an attack.

  He knocked the blow aside and rammed his other elbow into my throat.

  My back slammed into the ground. Sand burned my exposed skin.

  I gasped for breath.

  Rodric slammed his foot down on my arm, breaking my grip on my sword. He picked it up and tossed it away.

  Between fits of gasping, I searched for another weapon as Cion had taught me. The slain tiger lay only a few feet from me.

  Sand scraped my eyes as I scanned the area. Something glinted.

  And I remembered what Cion had said about Remy. About how he’d gotten Rodric’s sword away from him by faking an injury.

  Only I didn’t have to fake it.

  “Please,” I gasped. “Please let me go.” I wrenched my arm away and slowly crawled backward toward the tiger.

  Rodric laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  I collapsed by the tiger’s body.

  Rodric crouched near my head. “You may’ve survived the scorpion sting. But I’m master of the arena.”

  “No, you’re not.” My arm shot out, grabbing the shackles lying just behind the tiger’s head. I swung them as hard as I could into Rodric’s temple.

  Surprise flashed across his face.

  I didn’t wait around to see what other emotions surfaced. I leapt to my feet and scrambled toward my sword.

  Rodric was swift behind me.

  He took one long swing at me just as I grabbed my sword. He put all his weight behind that swing.

  Cion had been right. Not only had Rodric been counting on his sword as the only weapon he needed, he didn’t think I’d know how to wield a blade with my shield hand.

  I waited until the last possible moment to duck under the blow and toss my sword to my left hand. As his momentum exposed his entire right side, I rammed my sword right under his ribs. Just as Cion had taught me to do with my dagger.

  Rodric’s momentum carried him a few feet away. He fought to stay on his feet as his sword arm dropped to his side. The twin tips of Cion’s sword dragged in the dirt. He took a few stumbling steps back toward me. Blood dripped out of his side and left a trail. He attempted to raise his blade. Instead, it fell to the dirt. He crashed down next to it.

  I watched his body until I was certain he wouldn’t rise.

  My chest heaving, I picked up Cion’s sword from where it had landed and turned back to the chaos of the arena. People were streaming toward the exits, but amidst the chaos I spotted Cion in the stands. He’d acquired a spear somehow. But he wasn’t pointing it at any threat. He was screaming something and pointing it at me.

  No, behind me.

  I turned just in time to see the remaining tiger heading right for me.

  I dove out of the way as it snarled past. I rolled to my feet, sword at the ready to attack.

  But when the tiger turned back toward me, there were no bars separating us. I could look directly into its eyes. No reflections of flames stared back. Instead, all that was reflected was me—crouched low, sword in hand, ready to pounce.

  I inhaled, watching the tiger’s paws in the sand, waiting for the smallest movement hinting that it was about to leap forward. But the tiger made no move toward me. It stared as if it were judging me, as if it were looking through my eyes into my spirit. No, not my spirit. The spirit of the desert that swirled inside me. The one I’d brought back with me when the desert sands had sent me back into the city. The one it recognized because the same spirit lived in it as well.

  Slowly, it lowered its gaze, staring at the sand. The longer it stood there, the more and more its sides heaved. It panted, exhausted from the day’s events and the desert heat. Or maybe it was simply as tired of fighting in the arena as I was. It lay down in the sand only a few feet from me, its white whiskers pulling back as it sucked in air.

  It wasn’t meant for this weather. It wasn’t meant for the desert. And yet, the desert had let it pass through all those years ago when my father had captured it.

  And I wondered if this is how my father had stumbled upon the tigers, weak and depleted. No wonder he’d been able to capture them so easily. But the longer I watched the creature lying there, the more I realized that the tigers had never bowed before him. They’d cowered from the desert like everything else.

  He’d thought he was their master. He’d thought he could tame them, but my father had mistreated them, forcing them to fight in the arena to survive, just as he’d made me do. He’d tried to bend the desert to his will instead of realizing we’re all at the mercy of these sands.

  I wouldn’t make the same mistakes because I didn’t need tigers to rule these people. My own strength was enough—the strength of the desert inside me was enough. So even though it only would’ve taken one swipe of my sword to kill the tiger lying at my feet, I let my sword fall to my side. The desert had taken enough from me, and I had killed one of its tigers in turn. The bloodshed had to end somewhere. It had to end now.

  The tiger and I were both done fighting in this arena. Because I’d beaten every opponent. I’d won. For the first time, my future was finally my own. And I was going to make the decisions that should’ve been made years ago, the ones that didn’t shackle the people to me out of fear. It was time to cut the last of the chains linking the desert to my father and his terrible rule. It was time to set the tiger free.

  I let it lie there undisturbed as I turned to face the crowd, and this time when I raised my sword to signal the fight was over, I wasn’t raising it to my father—I was raising it to the desert itself. I let out a roar and pumped my hand in the air until it began to ache because after all this time, it was truly over.

  A cheer went up all around from the people still scattered inside.

  Cion leapt into the arena and jogged toward me. And then his arms were around me. I exhaled for what felt like the first time.

  He pulled back. “Are you okay?” His eyes flickered back and forth between me and the tiger, but the beast made no move to get up. It rolled into the sand, seemingly content to lie there.

  Breathlessly, I nodded. “Are you?”

  “Yes.” His eyes were bright. His smile was so big it made me want to laugh. “You did it.” He lifted my face toward his. “You really did it.” His hand lingered on my cheek. And then he was pulling me closer to him. His lips pressed against mine. Heat shot through me. He tasted like the cool desert night.

  His hands moved upward, entwining in my hair, pulling me against him until our chests touched, making me never want to let go. I responded, wrapping my arms around him. He deepened the kiss, pressing his lips against mine with more ferocity than a tiger. It was like being in the shifting hills. The world tumbled away around us. All there was were his lips on mine, the small gasps of air we snuck, and our heartbeats.

  Thoughts of how I never wanted him to stop, of how I could ever have thought I didn’t want this rushed through my head until one final thought sliced through them all.

  I pulled back. “Latia,” I said, trying to catch my breath, “she’s alive.”

  His arms didn’t drop away. “I know. Rodric made sure I saw her before I was taken into the arena. He probably wanted me to think she was behind one of the doors.”

  He leaned forward like he was going to k
iss me again.

  I didn’t move, confusion playing across my face. “You gave her an engagement bracelet . . .”

  “What?” Then understanding dawned in Cion’s eyes. “You thought I was in love with Latia?”

  I ducked my face. “What was I supposed to think?”

  “She’s my cousin,” he said with a laugh. “Bala is her mother.” He shook his head, sending wisps of hair over his eyes. “Latia’s like my sister.”

  “Then why did you give her the engagement bracelet?”

  “You know it’s a tradition for a mother to give hers to her daughter. Bala wanted her to have it, but Latia refused to see her, knowing she’d try to get her to leave on the caravan with her,” he said. “Bala thought if Latia would get married, maybe she’d give up this idea of getting revenge. Both Bala and I thought it was too dangerous for Latia to keep working in the palace, but she refused to stop searching for the water controls. Her mother was hoping if she had her engagement bracelet, it might change Latia’s mind.”

  I nearly cried in relief. “You could’ve told me that.”

  He looked puzzled. “I tried right after she left us alone in the desert. You said you understood. I thought you did.”

  It felt like he’d pulled me out of the shifting hills again, and I was back on solid ground. This time, I didn’t stop myself from brushing the hair away from his eyes, and when he kissed me, warmth shot through me hotter than the blazing desert sand.

  The roaring of the crowd was what finally drew us apart. My cheeks blazed when I remembered just how many people were watching us, but they didn’t seem to mind the idea of Cion by my side.

  “I guess since I defeated Rodric, that means I get to pick who I marry,” I said, eyeing him and thinking maybe I wouldn’t mind wearing my mother’s engagement bracelet at all.

  A smile slid across his face. “Does that mean you’re rescinding your offer to make me your captain of the guard?”

  I shoved his arm playfully. “It looks like you escaped Scorpion Hill without being stung,” I pointed out. “Some would say that makes you chosen by the desert and worthy of following in Tamlin’s footsteps.”

  Cion laughed. “The only reason I didn’t get stung was because I rubbed my legs in the juice from a spiral cactus last week,” he said. “Scorpions hate it.”

 

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