The Mirror King

by Jodi Meadows

  The chamber was already full when we arrived, but there was space at the front reserved for Meredith and me. We squeezed Theresa in between us. Several of Meredith’s friends—Chey, Margot, and the others who frequented the solar for needlework—cast frowns our way, but if Meredith noticed them, she didn’t comment.

  Theresa gazed at the dragon art filling the room, awestruck as if she hadn’t spent last evening here, too. “Imagine the redecorating if another House were to take the throne one day.”

  “It’s said if another House took the throne, the kingdom would fall apart.” Meredith smiled indulgently. “But that’s just a story House of the Dragon made up centuries ago. The Gearys were Dragon, too, you know.”

  “King Tobiah is Dragon, but what’s this ‘heir to four Houses’ I keep hearing?” Theresa frowned at a dragon sculpture. “Doesn’t that count as another House taking the throne?”

  “Oh no.” Meredith leaned close and lowered her voice. “It’s another wishful tale, but it is true that King Tobiah’s parents are from two different Houses, and his grandparents cover the other two. Hence the four Houses.”

  “That sounds like everyone making themselves feel better by assigning significance to nothing special.”

  “Some people appease their fears by idolizing their king.” Meredith nodded thoughtfully. “But that’s what people do sometimes, and there is a little specialness in being a direct descendant of four Houses. It’s unusual.”

  The general hum of voices lowered as Tobiah emerged from a group of men he’d been talking with. He took his throne, and his mother took the smaller one next to him. Both were formally dressed; Tobiah wore a gleaming crown.

  His eyes scanned the audience, settling on Meredith and me. The prince mask returned. King mask, now.

  One of the attendants called the audience to order. “Presenting His Majesty King Tobiah Pierce, House of the Dragon, and Sovereign of the Indigo Kingdom.”

  Applause exploded over the throne room, and the king mask fell away to reveal a smile that shone with something between pride and grief. He was king, as he was meant to be, but he was king now for only one reason.

  As the cheering died, Tobiah lifted his voice so it rang across the chamber. “My father was known for being a fair and generous man during his audiences. That’s something I always admired. I want to be known for the same strong qualities. I’m afraid our current wraith situation will make that even more of a challenge, but even more necessary, too. Already Skyvale is receiving refugees from the southern reaches of the land. Every decision I make from this moment forward must be colored by that knowledge.

  “To that effect, I would like to announce that I am making a number of immediate changes. First: all refugees, regardless of their homeland, will be welcomed into Skyvale.”

  A few people clapped, Meredith and Theresa among them.

  “This brings me to the second point: those same refugees, along with anyone else in the city, will be given jobs. In addition to restoring normalcy to Skyvale, I intend to restore the mirrors that were shattered during the Inundation. As well, I want mirrors all along the western border of the Indigo Kingdom.”

  That announcement was met with a mixture of alarm, confusion, and hope.

  Behind me, someone whispered, “We need food, not refugees and mirrors.”

  “Finally, I am finished relying on passive measures to resist the wraith. This morning, I sent orders to build a facility south of the city. Plans are already being drawn up, and construction will begin by the end of the week.”

  People in the front rows shifted uncertainly.

  “The Liadian barrier held off the wraith for a year. We are going to build one as well, with an eye toward improving the longevity. Our barrier will be created in the new facility. Additionally, there will be a holding area for wraith creatures, and rewards for those brave enough to capture them alive, and bring them to the facility.”

  Murmurs erupted across the throne room: the new king was mad, or wraith-touched, or the Aecorian princess was too much an influence.

  Tobiah lifted a hand, and the whispering stopped. “I know this sounds alarming and outrageous to a lot of you, but our kingdom is in danger. We are desperate.” His dark eyes found mine, making my stomach drop. “My wraith mitigation committee is hard at work, and from now on, we will not simply try to mitigate the wraith’s effects, but prevent it from further entering the Indigo Kingdom.”

  Meredith, Theresa, and I clapped, and gradually others joined in. A slight lowering of his shoulders was the only indication of relief Tobiah showed.

  When Tobiah indicated, the audience began, first with petitions for food or financial aid disguised as praises of his generosity. He sat through all of these, granting some requests, but denying others.

  “Why is he saying no to some?” Theresa whispered. “Those people need help.”

  Meredith kept her voice soft. “Some are testing him, hoping to get favors they don’t need. This one, for example, says he needs shipments of grain, but the land he controls around Hawes has plenty of unused fields. They’re not starving, and they’re certainly not affected by the wraith.”

  “Ah. So if he wants more grain, he should plant it, rather than take it from areas that actually need it.”

  “Right. And His Majesty knows that. He studied with his father for years to gain this kind of knowledge.”

  Theresa nodded toward the next petitioner. “What about this one?”

  They continued on for a while, Theresa asking questions and Meredith giving opinions on why Tobiah made certain decisions. I listened, but found myself studying the others in attendance. Most were leaning toward one another in conversation, while a few looked ready to sneak out.

  And who could blame them? None of the petitioners were particularly interesting, but everyone stayed because this was the first audience, and no one wanted to be remembered for leaving early.

  The audience continued for three hours. Everyone wanted to see the new king, it seemed. But at last Tobiah said no more, and those closest to the doors began to slink out. But before the exodus could begin, a man crashed into the chamber, not waiting to be announced.

  “Your Majesty—” He bent over his knees to catch his breath. Damp, too-long curls covered his face, and torn, ragged clothes hung off his wiry frame. Through the layers of mud and smears of grass, hints of indigo shone: he was a soldier in the Indigo Army.

  Tobiah either knew the man or recognized the tattered uniform, because he surged up from his throne and met the man in the aisle. The crowd pushed close around them, held back by the Indigo Order. “What is it?”

  My heart pounded. It had to be the wraith. Another town had fallen. It was happening again.

  The man coughed and cleared his throat. “Aecor,” he said. “I’ve just ridden from Aecor.”

  The throne room was silent.

  “What about it?” The new king’s voice was firm and gentle as he helped the man stand upright. “What about Aecor?” I could almost feel the effort it took for him to not look for me in the crowd. Several others did, though. Theresa, too.

  “Patrick Lien has taken the Aecorian city of Northland.”

  More eyes darted toward me.

  “When did this happen?” asked Tobiah.

  “Yesterday. The Red Militia is only a small army, but they were devious and the city—they fought with him. It had been quiet for so long, but they knew he was coming. We were overwhelmed within hours. My captain sent me to warn you immediately. I rode all night. All day.”

  Tobiah’s jaw clenched. “I see.” He motioned for one of the servants standing by. “Prepare a room and meal for him.” He made his voice soft as he spoke to the soldier again. “Rest. I’ll speak with you further this evening.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The man bowed and left, and Tobiah stood in the aisle, arms hanging at his sides, his head dipped in thought.

  Everyone just waited.

  Tobiah’s chest exp
anded with a sigh. “General Goldberg. Is he here?”

  “No, Sire.” Captain Chuter stepped forward. “But what can I do?”

  “Alert the forces in Aecor. Send food and supplies. We need to move swiftly, before Lien’s control moves south to Aecor City.”

  “And reinforcements?”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  My breath came in shallow gasps as horror tore through me. Oh, Patrick. Paige. Ronald and Oscar. Melanie.

  It was too soon. Why hadn’t Melanie stopped this?

  After another long pause, Tobiah said, “I regret to inform the court that we are now at war.”

  EIGHTEEN

  I SPENT THE evening pacing in my suite, mind whirling with the thought of war. My kingdom. Tobiah’s kingdom. At arms.

  For almost ten years, Patrick and I had been working toward war. And now . . .

  Dinner arrived. I ate. And when night fell, I busied myself with my writing desk, arranging papers and pens and other tools, only to find myself unsatisfied and rearrange everything again.

  At last, I pulled on my leather and silk, and just as I strapped my sword to my back, a tap came on the balcony door. I pushed aside the curtain.

  Black Knife watched me, his head tilted, one gloved palm pressed to the glass. Heart pounding, I lifted a hand and laid it flat against his. Only the cool glass stood between us, and the faint light of my bedroom made me cast a reflection over him.

  We stood there a moment, Black Knife and me, and then he touched the door handle, his movements like a question.

  Cold wind gusted when I opened the door and stepped outside.

  “I thought you’d like to take a walk.” He strode to the edge of the balcony, looking over the woods.

  The rail was solid against my hips as I leaned on it, next to Black Knife. “What happened this afternoon—it’s all I can think about.”

  “Me too. And it’s the last thing I want to discuss right now. I want to go back to how it was before, even if it’s just for a few hours.”

  His arm was only a hair’s breadth from mine. If I shifted my weight just so, we’d be touching. “I want that, too.”

  “I don’t want to talk about the war, or what happened last night, or Meredith, either.” His shoulders hunched as he leaned forward onto the rail. “I know you’ve been spending time with her. That’s probably good.”

  “Probably.” I started toward the exterior wall where I could easily rappel down the side of the palace.

  “I lied.” Black Knife faced me, his mask hiding his expression. “I want to say one thing. Meredith is a wonderful and kind person. She’s beautiful, smart, generous, and everything a king should want in a queen. But I’ve always felt”—he touched his mask, as though to reassure himself it was there—“a little like a monster. There are parts of me that I hate, and I face them every day. I’m not good enough for her.”

  Oh, how I knew that feeling. Easily, I recalled standing in the breezeway, Black Knife saying we were the same, but I hadn’t been able to believe it. He was just so good, while I’d spent most of my life as a criminal. “What about me?” The question was out before I could stop it.

  His regard was thoughtful, searching, and a triplet of heavy moments passed between us before his posture shifted. Shoulders down, chest angled away from me: he’d discarded whatever he’d been about to say. “Sorry, nameless girl. I don’t think you’re good enough for her, either.”

  “Obviously.” I rolled my eyes, and a few minutes later we were on the ground and racing through the King’s Seat and Hawksbill.

  Black Knife and I avoided guard patrols and climbed the Hawksbill wall, both of us scanning the city for a direction.

  “Flags?” he asked, crouching low. “Or Greenstone?”

  I dropped next to him, scowling at the dark city. After years of getting used to the mirrors, it would never look right without them. “Some of the shelter areas need help. The Nightmare gang was harassing one in White Flag last night. I stopped them, but they’ll be back.”

  “Then let’s start there.”

  “She isn’t perfect, you know,” I said before he could stand. “No one is perfect, and imagining that she’s an exception is just setting her up to disappoint you.”

  “Are you cataloging her faults?”

  “No. She is all those things you said: kind and generous and smart. But for all those wonderful qualities, she isn’t perfect. She loves King Tobiah. She doesn’t love Black Knife. She couldn’t accept this part of you.”

  “I’m not supposed to be Black Knife anyway.”

  “But Black Knife is who you are.” I shook my head. “She might be everything a queen should be . . . for a different king. The way you see her isn’t fair to either of you. She’ll never live up to the image you’ve painted, and you can’t live your life thinking you’re not good enough.”

  His breath puffed out his mask.

  “You’re not a monster. You never were.”

  He stood and offered his hand to help me up. “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

  I didn’t take his hand, but I did follow him deeper into the city.

  I felt whole. Alive.

  Over the next several nights, we hunted glowmen, wraith beasts, thugs, and those who used this strange, transitional time to exploit others. We followed the requests for aid painted onto walls and fences, and located missing friends or family.

  It was helping. New shelters sprang up in the Flags and Greenstone, most with reputations of being friendlier toward families than the original ones.

  Communities formed, with people cleaning the neighborhood, others guarding, and even more gathering food and caring for their groups.

  Even the police seemed more inclined to help the homeless, rather than hunt them. They protected people. The first time we saw it, I looked at Black Knife in shock, and he just smiled beneath his mask.

  “I do pay attention to what you say.” He bumped his shoulder against mine and nodded toward a glimmer in the west. “Look there.”

  The glimmer resolved into a glass pane hanging on one of the western guard towers. A mirror. A bubble of laughter gathered in my throat and escaped. “You know what they’re going to call you now, right?”

  “What?”

  I shook my head and jumped to another roof. It was time to find our next request for help. “You’re a smart boy. You’ll figure it out.”

  He leapt after me, silent and graceful with every movement. “Just tell me.”

  “Come on, Black Knife. Your people need us.”

  Today was a historic day.

  The air in the throne room was sharp with anticipation and uncertainty. Nobility from all over the kingdom crowded in, though not as tightly as on the evening of the coronation, or the king’s first audience. Also in attendance were the foreign royalty and dignitaries who’d traveled here for the memorial and coronation.

  A hush fell as Tobiah strode down the aisle and stopped before a large table set in front of the thrones. His gaze swept over the paper, ink, and pens before he turned to address the assembly.

  “There have been several more reports of the Red Militia’s movement across Aecor,” said King Tobiah. “It’s only a matter of time before Lien marches on Aecor City, so the Indigo Army is mobilizing troops.”

  Soon the Indigo Army would march on Aecor City again. The image made me shudder.

  “Because of this,” Tobiah said, “we are being forced to move ahead on several items sooner than expected. The first of these is, of course, the Wraith Alliance.” He motioned me forward, along with the dignitaries from Laurel-by-the-Sea and the other nearby kingdoms not yet flooded with wraith.

  We approached the table, dressed in our best as though we were going to do something grander than sign a piece of paper. My silk gown was vermilion with gold embroidery along the hems. It was a beautiful creation that looked like dripping blood when hanging in my wardrobe.

  I stood at the end of the line, next to the king from Laurel-by-th
e-Sea. When I faced the audience, lines of people stared back at me. There were the friendly faces of my Ospreys, who’d worked so hard to ensure we hadn’t missed anything. There was Meredith, tucked in with her group of friends. Chey didn’t look angry at me, for once.

  Tobiah raised his voice. “Today, a hundred years after the first Wraith Alliance was signed in this very room, we are gathered to sign the agreement once more. The absence of those we’ve lost is keenly felt, and it is for them, and those who come after us, that the Wraith Alliance has been revised in order to begin a new effort to stop the wraith.”

  Polite applause sounded through the room, but frowns deepened.

  “For a century, we have believed that ceasing all magic use would put a stop to the wraith. For a century, we have been proven wrong. New findings show us that there may be a better way of protecting our kingdoms, and in light of that, the treaty will be revised to allow the use of magic in highly regulated experiments to halt the wraith’s approach.”

  So many people gasped at once, it was a miracle there was any air left in the room.

  “While this will likely be the most criticized revision, it means two things: a plan to prevent the wraith from further inundating the kingdom is already in effect, and magic users are invited to join in our effort.”

  I doubted many flashers would walk up to the palace and offer their services, but at least they’d no longer be sent to the wraithland as punishment for having magic. What would happen to people illegally using magic—that was still under debate, but it wasn’t part of the Wraith Alliance, so we’d moved on.

  “Previously, allies were obligated to shelter only nobility from wraith-fallen kingdoms, leaving thousands of people to suffer in refugee camps, or worse.”

  Like being forced to remain in the wraithland.

  “Under the revised Wraith Alliance, allied kingdoms guarantee entry into their lands to all citizens of wraith-fallen kingdoms. Our world is so small now. We must protect those who survive.”

  That brought a more enthusiastic applause.

  “Finally,” he said, “the exchange of information regarding the wraith will remain the same. Allied kingdoms will continue sharing, though emissaries will be sent into all kingdoms to ensure there are no omissions.”