The Mirror King

by Jodi Meadows

  “Same place I got my knife.” I touched the handle. Had Melanie told Patrick we’d spoken? Or had he left Fisher’s Mouth so quickly because he was paranoid? I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment while James described how many soldiers and police officers had been pulled from other duties to chase this lead, probably giving Patrick and his half of the Ospreys space to slip out of the city.

  “You should go to bed.” James motioned toward the door. “You look exhausted.”

  And I was exhausted, but I wasn’t leaving. I marched across the room and took the chair near Tobiah’s bed. I’d tried to make two things right tonight, and already failed at one. If I’d gone after Patrick myself . . . but I’d made a choice.

  I had to see it through.

  FIVE

  “WAKE UP, NAMELESS girl.”

  Dawn seeped around the curtains, lighting the dark room into gray. Candles had drowned their flames or been put out—I couldn’t remember—and the smothering air of encroaching death had lifted.

  Tobiah was still lying on his back, but he’d turned his head and hints of color lit his skin. When our eyes met, his were bright and alert, and so, so familiar.

  I sat straight, heart pounding with hope. “You’re alive.”

  “My dear Wilhelmina, you’re amazingly accomplished at stating the obvious.” His voice was groggy, deep with the remnants of his long slumber.

  “And you’re well enough for sarcasm. I think you’ll live.”

  His grin was all Black Knife. Because of the mask, it was an expression I’d only sensed before, never seen, but I knew it just the same: the lift of his cheeks, the light in his eyes, and the way the world seemed to pause.

  This was the boy I’d fallen in love with.

  Please forgive me for what I’m about to do; know that it is duty and honor that compel me to act against my true feelings.

  Forgive me.

  I took a ragged breath. “I should send for your mother. She has no idea you’re—” Alive. Awake. He’d been so close to death just hours before.

  “In a few minutes.” He closed his eyes. “Just give me a few minutes before I have to be . . . what they all need me to be.” He went still, as though he’d drifted off again, but then he smiled. “You’re the one with the no-talking-or-get-stabbed rule. Not me.”

  How did he not have a million questions? Maybe he was saving them. “How do you feel?”

  His hand moved beneath his blankets, as though touching the bandages or testing the wound. “Like I got shot a month ago.”

  “It was yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” He started to sit, biting back a grunt and gasp as blankets fell around his waist. Bandages covered his stomach, but his chest and shoulders were bare, exposing muscles built from years of sword fighting. “Wilhelmina.” His tone turned serious as he took in my appearance: the trousers, the disheveled hair, the knife tucked into my belt as though Patrick might strike again. “How did I recover?”

  “How do you think?”

  Light grew around the curtains. With a soft groan, Tobiah swung his legs off the bed; trouser hems brushed the tops of his feet. His dark eyes were wide and warm. “What did you do, Nameless Girl?”

  “I couldn’t let you die.”

  He leaned his whole body toward me, shoulders and chest and face. A hand slipped forward on his knee, almost reaching. “You never fail to amaze me.”

  It took everything in me to stay put. Not move. He was for someone else, and for all the questionably moral things I was willing to do, that was a line I could not cross.

  The bedroom door swung open and the gas lamps hissed to life, saving me from temptation. James strode in with Francesca and Meredith behind him.

  Tobiah tugged on the blankets to cover himself.

  The queen regent gave a little shout and hurried to embrace him. Meredith pressed her hands to her chest. Only James didn’t seem shocked, but for a whole second he sagged with naked relief.

  I moved toward the writing desk, a safe distance away from the reunion. James bent his head toward mine.

  “How long has he been awake?”

  “A few minutes.”

  Across the room, Tobiah was reassuring his mother that he felt fine, and he wasn’t going to die. Meredith perched on the edge of the chair I’d slept in, leaning forward with her hands still clasped by her heart. The flush of someone who’d cried herself to sleep was brightening into hope.

  “Where were you?” I asked James. “I expected you to be hovering.”

  “I had work to do. If you recall, I was made head of palace security and there was an assassination attempt five minutes later. Then you escaped.” James shook his head. “Apparently, I have a big job ahead.”

  He had a point. “So you didn’t warn the queen regent and duchess about Connor?”

  “I intercepted them on my way here. The royal physicians insisted Her Majesty be, ah, helped to sleep last night, and this morning she decided she wasn’t happy about it.”

  “Hard to blame her,” I muttered.

  “Anyway, I thought you were plenty capable of protecting my cousin while I looked into securing the palace. Even if you couldn’t, there are half a dozen men of the Indigo Order in the next room.”

  “Patrick might have killed Terrell in his sleep, and with nothing more than a knife, but twice now he’s attacked Tobiah from a distance.”

  “Which is why the windows are shut and there are guards on the balcony. But all of our intelligence suggests Patrick has left the city.”

  “That’s my thought, too.” The guilt churned in me.

  “What are you two talking about over there?” Tobiah lifted his voice, looking beyond his mother, who sat on the bed beside him. “And James, grab a shirt for me. It’s chilly.”

  James fished through a wardrobe and handed his cousin a solid black shirt before beginning his account of the search for Patrick. And though I wished he wouldn’t, he included my involvement with drawings and telling the Indigo Order to search Fisher’s Mouth.

  “So.” Tobiah finished shrugging on the shirt—Meredith demurely turned her head—and began buttoning while he spoke. “Lien has yet to be captured.” His gaze cut to me for a heartbeat, then went back to James. “I hope you’re still making your best effort.”

  “Of course. And while it’s likely he’s left the city by now, confident of your death, the palace remains on high alert.”

  “This brings me to the first of many questions.” Francesca stood and smoothed her gown as she took her place beside Meredith. “Who were those people you brought here last night, Wilhelmina?”

  James stilled.

  “Captain, do you think I don’t know when a small gang of youths appropriates one of the best rooms in the palace? They ate through almost a quarter of residents’ breakfast before anyone caught them.”

  Oh, saints. They’d found the kitchens.

  “Of course not.” Somehow, James kept his tone light. “I just didn’t expect you to know quite so soon, and without preparation.”

  The queen offered a thin smile and turned toward me, waiting for an explanation.

  I fumbled. Haughty? Solemn? Kind? I didn’t know which mask to put on, so I didn’t use one. I exhaled and let her see how much they meant to me. “They’re what’s left of Aecorian high nobility, kidnapped during the One-Night War. At first, there were nineteen of us. Now there are ten, split down the middle. The night of the Inundation, four came with me, and four went with Patrick.”

  “The ones eating their way through the kitchens are yours.”

  I nodded.

  “Let me make sure I understand correctly. Patrick Lien was once part of your group. You knew he’d killed my husband, yet did nothing to bring him to justice?”

  I pressed my mouth into a line. “The wraith had just reached the city. Trying to deal with that and Patrick at the same time would have been impossible. I made a choice that would save lives.”

  Francesca’s voice flattened. “Your choice
nearly cost the lives of my son and nephew.”

  The accusation twisted my heart, but I held my posture stiff.

  “To be fair,” Tobiah said, “she did tell me yesterday about Lien. We were already in pursuit after the first attempt on me, though.” He glanced at James. “And I think Her Highness would have told me about Father’s assassination if I’d bothered speaking to her instead of keeping her confined to her quarters.”

  Meredith, silent all this time, granted him a deep smile, like she was proud he’d remembered to be courteous. He ignored her.

  “All right,” said the queen. “Allowing that, why did we not know of Lien’s location until last night, when Wilhelmina was apprehended outside an inn in White Flag?” She looked at me. “Isn’t that when you told Sergeant Ferris to go to Fisher’s Mouth?”

  “It was at the inn I learned of his location.”

  James lifted an eyebrow; he’d been waiting to hear about this, too.

  “On my way to fetch the Ospreys, Melanie and I met. She told me where to look.”

  “Do you think she warned him?” James’s tone was neutral, but the comment stung. “She did side with him when you split.”

  As if I could forget. “Patrick is paranoid; he probably left Fisher’s Mouth as soon as she returned. The entire city is hunting him.”

  “Let’s remember we’re not interrogating Her Highness.” Meredith’s voice was soft, but everyone looked at her. Francesca’s expression warmed. “While questions must be answered, let’s not forget that Princess Wilhelmina is our guest.”

  “That does lead to another question, though.” Francesca faced me again, a challenge in her eyes. “Why was it that you chose last night to sneak out of the palace and fetch your Ospreys?”

  I glanced at James. He nodded.

  “Your son wasn’t going to live, Your Majesty.” I couldn’t make myself look at Tobiah, but even from the corner of my eye I could see his expression of impassive boredom. It was a mask. That face always had been, and I hadn’t been able to see through it. But he was listening to every word, every breath, every hesitation. Earlier, he’d asked what I’d done. Here it was: “One of my Ospreys is a healer. A flasher with the power to heal.”

  The room went silent.

  Tobiah pressed his palm over the bandages and the princely mask dropped away, revealing confusion and betrayal and wonder. “Magic.”

  Meredith’s eyes were wide.

  “I was told you’d sent for a friend.” Queen Francesca’s words were soft, but cutting. I’d always thought her meek before, but now I knew that was as much of a mask as anything Tobiah and I wore. “I didn’t think much of it. But magic.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  Neither James nor I answered.

  “Which Osprey is this? Had he ever used it before? Did either of you consider that what you did is illegal? The wraith is already so close.”

  “I did consider that.” I pulled myself to my full height. “But I am neither a citizen of the Indigo Kingdom—I was kidnapped almost ten years ago, if you recall—nor have I ever been overly concerned with the law when the law prevents me from doing what is necessary. Remember that last night, my friend was the only thing standing between your son and death. Your son, who is now sitting up and scowling. Alive. And just hours ago, he was slipping toward the saints.”

  The queen regent turned her eyes to her son and acquiesced. “And your friend? Had he ever done anything like that before?”

  If she was asking about James’s miraculous recovery, she didn’t give a hint.

  “Once. When he was young and didn’t know better, he saved a rabbit. We’ve been hiding his power ever since. There are people who would exploit his gift.” Or arrest him for it. Just months ago, Black Knife would have been one of those people. If caught, Connor would have been taken to the wraithland and sentenced to die by the creatures out there. “He’s well read and practiced in more traditional medicine. He knew what he was doing.”

  “Very well. Thank you for your part in saving my son.” Francesca seemed to collect her thoughts. “But we will not speak of this again. None of us. Tobiah, we’ll tell everyone that you are recovering thanks to the physicians, but you’ll need to stay confined until a reasonable amount of time has passed for you to truly heal.”

  Tobiah shook his head. “The law is clear. One week of mourning for the old king, and the new king should be crowned the following day, or risk being challenged. If we delay, either of my uncles could contest my enthronement. Many of Uncle Colin’s men are coming from Aecor, so they can attend the memorial and coronation. But if I miss the date and my uncle claims I’m not fit to rule, that means he has thousands of armed supporters at his command.”

  “But you’re their king. Future king. Would they support him over you?” Meredith’s eyes were wide.

  “It’s a possibility I won’t dismiss.” The prince gave a deep nod. “The challenger doesn’t even have to be direct family, though they’re more likely to have the support they need if they’re high in the line of succession. How do you think the Pierces took the throne from the Gearys?”

  “So,” said Meredith, “two days until the memorial, and three until the coronation. Few people will believe you’ve healed so quickly, naturally.”

  No one quite looked at James.

  I lifted my voice. “Unless you claim the prince knew an attack might happen, and was armored beneath his clothes. You can say this was a ploy to draw out Patrick, and that you allowed everyone to believe the prince’s injuries were so grave in order to make him believe he’d succeeded.”

  “Dozens of guards saw the bolt go through,” said James.

  “They are under your command.”

  “Give the order.” Tobiah ran his fingers through his hair, making the strands stand on end. “My recovery doesn’t have to be miraculous. I’ll play the invalid and rule from bed when I must, but we cannot delay the coronation.”

  The crown prince left no room for argument.

  “Very well.” The queen regent didn’t look happy, but her acceptance caused a sliver of relief to ripple through the room.

  In this, at least, we were all five united.

  We all had our reasons for needing this: a mother’s grieving heart, a fiancée’s elevation to queen, a cousin’s duty and friendship.

  And my reason?

  Too complex to name.

  “One more thing before I go to share the news that Tobiah will live.” Francesca looked to me. “You could have sent your friend here and gone to find Patrick with the Indigo Order.”

  Meredith gasped. “She could have been hurt!”

  Francesca waved that away. “Perhaps, though she is a capable young woman and she’d have had a score of guards to protect her.”

  I hated where this was going.

  “Would you have been able to track Patrick, assuming he’d truly been there?”

  Behind my back, I curled my hands into fists. “Possibly.”

  “Why didn’t you go?” When I didn’t answer immediately, she added, “I’m not asking anything that my husband’s brothers won’t. There are still those who believe you cut my husband’s throat, and without proof that Lien did it—your word that he confessed holds very little weight after your impersonation of Lady Julianna—there’s little to keep suspicion off you. Even if there were proof, Lien is still an Osprey and was under your command during the time of the assassination. So why, a second time, did you allow Patrick to escape?”

  “Would you have acted any differently, Your Majesty?”

  The queen regent drew back, her eyes cutting to her son, and the answer was clear.

  Tobiah slipped off the edge of the bed, using the chair arm for support. Meredith reached up, as though to help, but never quite touched him. “You should have gone after Lien,” Tobiah said. “Your presence wasn’t required here. You’d have been more useful tracking him.”

  Before I could form any sort of response, a knock sounded and a
wiry man in messenger livery came in.

  With owl-wide eyes, the stranger glanced around the room and seemed to take in his mistake all at once. The queen. The crown prince. The princess. The duchess. And the Indigo Order captain.

  He swung back to the prince standing on his own.

  The prince, who should have been on his deathbed.

  Our secret was out before it’d even begun.

  Tobiah sighed. “What is it?”

  “Refugees, Your Highness. Majesty. Highness. Hundreds of refugees are approaching Skyvale.”

  “Refugees from which direction?” If they were from the east, that simply meant those who’d left during the Inundation were coming back. If they were from the west, more Liadians—and people from kingdoms beyond—might have made it through the wraithland.

  “From the south. They’re from Indigo Kingdom villages all along the wraithland border.”

  “What does that mean?” Meredith’s hands were knots of white knuckles.

  The messenger’s reply came gravely. “It means the wraith is moving again. Faster.”

  SIX

  ACTIVITY EXPLODED ACROSS the room.

  James, Tobiah, and I started for the messenger. Meredith looked to the crown prince for guidance. Francesca turned her glare on me, as though this were my fault; maybe it was.

  But Tobiah could barely stand, let alone walk, so with a pained groan he crumpled. James switched trajectories and the queen regent rushed around Meredith to help move the prince back to his bed.

  While the others were busy, I approached the messenger. “What else do you know about the wraith? How fast is it coming? What towns? How many refugees?”

  “Nothing. That’s all I heard.”

  I grabbed the messenger and shoved him against the wall. His head thudded. I held my knife to his throat and growled, “What kind of messenger doesn’t get important details and then barges into the crown prince’s chambers? Do you work for Patrick?”

  His eyes widened.

  “You’re too incompetent to be an assassin. Are you trying to lure Tobiah into public so someone else can kill him?”

  Meredith let out a peep of surprise, like she hadn’t even considered that, but then she saw my knife. “Captain Rayner,” she breathed.