by S. T. Bende
“I think I see her,” Elin whispered. I scanned the forest until I spotted the dark-haired girl emerging from a dense cluster of trees. She raised a hand in farewell before ducking to her right and hurrying through the woods. She was heading for a different trail, probably so nobody could link our meeting.
“We’d better get back before the curfew bell.” I moved toward campus. “Do you have any idea how long we were out there?”
Elin shrugged. “Two hours? Maybe longer? I don’t know how time works in that place.”
We jogged through the trees in silence. When we reached the back wall of the quad, Elin tugged on my arm.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “That was a lot, meeting your dad—kind of—and hearing about your uncle. And your prophecy. Jeez, Aura. That’s heavy.”
I ignored the lead lodged in my gut. “The queen told me I’d lead the realms to peace or drive them to war. That was right before she threatened to have me un-princessed if I jeopardized her reign.”
Elin blinked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I should have,” I said. “I just . . . I don’t know, it was a lot.”
Elin squeezed my elbow. “Don’t go through this alone, okay? I’m your friend. I want to help you.”
“We both have a lot at stake,” I said. “And I won’t keep anything else from you. I promise.”
Elin and I would get through this like we had everything else our entire lives—together.
“And speaking of not keeping things a secret”—I pulled the ivy curtain aside and followed Elin into the quad—“I need to talk to my aunt about all of this and it’s probably going to take a while. I’ll walk back to the dorm with you so I can grab a change of clothes for the queen’s stupid speech in the morning. But then I’m going to head over to Signy’s.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Elin offered.
“No, thanks. Get some sleep. I still don’t understand why the queen is making us get up at dawn on a Saturd—”
“Cutting it awfully close, aren’t you?” Britney’s nasally voice rang across the quad. “Curfew tolls in three minutes. What are you doing out this late?”
“Soaking in the rays of the full moon to energize our auras. Empati assignment.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue. I held Britney’s gaze long enough to let her know she hadn’t intimidated me, before turning the tables. “What are you doing out so late?”
“Styra patrol the school borders to make sure nobody breaks curfew. You know that,” Britney snarked.
Actually, I didn’t. With the exception of our crystal meetings, I’d kept pretty much to myself at the academy. Gods, what if my lifelong aversion to group activities was because of my dark DNA? Had I subconsciously tried to protect the world from the monster inside of me all along?
“Aura may have had a class assignment, but you’re not an Empati.” Britney leapt off the low stone wall and sauntered across the grass to stand in front of Elin. “What’s your excuse, Musa?”
Elin eyed her coolly. “I needed to absorb the creative energies of the full moon. If you had any artistic abilities, you’d know that. Britney.”
Ouch.
Britney sneered, and I wrapped my fingers around Elin’s wrists. “Let’s go. Britney is clearly in another one of her moods.” Without another word, I turned on one heel and pulled my friend toward the academy.
“Watch your backs,” Britney called after us. “The disciplinary council would love to score a one-on-one with their princess.”
I ignored her as Elin and I made our way to the dorms. We ducked inside just as the bell tolled its first stroke, and closed the door to our room as the tenth ping chimed.
“Shh,” I whispered, pointing to Finna asleep in her bed.
“It’s okay, I’m not out yet.” Finna raised her eye mask and rolled over to prop herself up on one elbow. “Late night?”
“You could say that.” I shuffled into the bathroom to grab my toiletries while Elin changed into her pajamas.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Elin asked.
I grabbed a duffel bag from under my bed and filled it with my toothbrush, pajamas, and a fresh uniform.
“I’m sure. Thanks, though. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall at . . . what time does the thing start? At eight?”
“Wait.” Finna yawned. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stay at Signy’s—she and I need to talk. I’ll fill you in after the queen’s address.”
“I wonder what Her Majesty is planning to tell us.” Elin rolled her eyes. “Maybe she’ll announce what civic monument she’s planning to destroy next; give us a chance to stage a protest first.”
“More likely, she’ll have that monster Narrik interrogate every student about their family’s political allegiance and torture the ones who don’t answer the way he wants them to.” I grimaced.
“Hopefully she’ll have some direction for us on the missing crystal,” Finna mumbled sleepily. “The Nidavellir branch looks like it could turn black any minute.”
The gravity of Finna’s words iced my veins. Elin shot me a worried look. If that branch fell, just a handful more stood between us and a direct link to Svartalfheim.
And Frigga only knew what would happen if my uncle got his all-access pass.
Chapter 16
SIGNY AND I STAYED up half the night dissecting everything my father told me, and speculating about what it meant for the future. She wasn’t upset that the girl she’d raised was half dark elf—she said she would have cherished me if I was Hel herself, so long as I was the kind-hearted girl she knew and loved. She was not, however, so accepting of what she referred to as my “blatant disregard for safety.” Given the enormity of the forces conspiring against me, Signy was horrified on learning I’d gone off into the woods with a stranger.
“Please be more careful.” Signy tucked the blue plaid blanket around my legs before settling back into her corner of the couch and wringing her fingers. “This uncle of yours has another thing coming if he thinks he can hurt you on my watch. But you have to help me keep you safe. Your mother entrusted me with your life. I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you.”
“I’m sorry.” I truly was. The poor woman looked like she’d been to Helheim and back. “But I had to follow Wynter—I thought she’d have a lead on the crystal’s location. Turns out she knew something just as big. Did you have any idea what I was?”
“I wondered,” Signy admitted. “I knew Constance was prejudiced against off-worlders, and I knew your mother’s ‘diplomatic mission’ was behind the queen’s decision to authorize the barrier. It didn’t make sense that Constance would go to that extent to keep out a human or a dwarf. But Lily never told me that when she toured the realms, she toured the dark ones, too. I suppose I should have known that as well—she was determined to be a different kind of ruler than Constance.”
Her and me both.
“Mom would have been a good queen?” I genuinely wanted to know.
“She’d have been one of our finest,” Signy confirmed. “She was selfless and kind, right up until the moment she . . .”
I tucked my feet underneath me. “I know it’s hard for you to remember the . . . the end.”
“If Lily had only been able to get through the barrier, she’d still be alive. When I got to her, she was right at the border. Her attackers weren’t yet within striking distance. Things could have ended so differently.”
“Right.” There wasn’t much else to say.
“But then, I wouldn’t have gotten to raise you.” Signy reached over to grasp my hand. “The moment I held you in my arms was the most joyful of my life. In that instant I understood love—true love—in a way I never have before or since. Please promise me you won’t go chasing any more strangers into the woods. Wynter is trustworthy, thank the gods, but if she had turned out to be someone else; if something had happened to you . . .”
“I’ll be more careful, I promis
e,” I vowed. “But I can’t sit by anymore. There must be hundreds, if not thousands living on dark realms who want a better life for their families. Our barrier, our ban on off-worlders—it’s unconscionable. We have to convince the queen to get rid of it. And to get rid of her horrible cabinet.”
“You won’t be the first to try,” Signy cautioned. “The Opprør have worked to achieve that for years, and they’ve been pushed to the ornamental government posts, and all but run out of many regions. And with their cabinet representatives still missing, they have very little power left.”
“True. But the Opprør have never had someone on their side with a direct claim to the throne.”
Signy raised one eyebrow. “Are you prepared to challenge Constance? Are you ready to rule the citizens of Alfheim as their queen?”
“Of course not! I’m only sixteen! But things can’t continue like this. And if my taking over is the only way out . . .”
“It’s a process, Aura—challenging a current ruler. You’ll need to have cause, which you do, and standing, which as the sole heir, you clearly do. If you’re to be successful, you’ll need the backing of the people, which means you need to earn their trust, first.”
“How do I do that?” I asked. “I’m related to her; won’t everyone think I’m just like her?”
“Not if you’ve taken steps to improve their safety by, say, restoring the Sterkvart crystal to the Alfheim Tree. But since we still don’t have any leads there . . .” Signy studied the ceiling. “Why don’t we make one more attempt at reason? We’ll ask Constance for a meeting in your capacity as Princess of Alfheim and make a formal request for removal of the barrier and reinstatement of peacetime governing practices. Set out your logic, I’ll serve as witness, and if she still refuses to see sense . . . well, we’ll evaluate our next steps.”
“Okay.” I drew my blanket up around my chin. “I’m not cold,” I hastened when Signy reached for another throw. “I’m just freaked out.”
“I know, but you’ll have my support at every step. You have your mother’s sense of fairness—she’d be proud that you have the strength to stand up for what’s right.” Signy held out her arms, and I scooted into them. She stroked my hair like she’d done when I was a little girl, and I let her soothe my anxiety. In no time, I’d drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, having very nearly overslept, I lumbered into the queen’s address with half a minute to spare. My tardiness meant Elin and I couldn’t discuss my night with Signy, or our plan to request a meeting with the queen that day. Thankfully, Elin had saved us seats in the back of the hall where I didn’t have to feign attentiveness or calm. My friend’s presence transformed me from a raging bundle of nerves to a semi-functioning stress case.
Or, it had. Once the queen took her place at the podium, the nerves in my gut churned anew. All around me, students shot anxious glances at their friends, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of the despot whose choices continued to destroy our realm more efficiently than any enemy in Alfheim’s history. Only the Styra watched with rapt adoration as the queen droned on for what felt like hours. Her address culminated in a renewed plea to locate the missing Sterkvart crystal—without offering any additional information that might help the hunt. By the time the queen urged us to “bring glory and honor to Alfheim, so She shall bring infinite grace and wisdom to you,” I was a keyed up, nerve-wracked mess. I just wanted to deal with my family business, already.
Queen Constance concluded her address with a flourish of her bony hand. Her wings fluttered behind her as she moved to the edge of the temporary stage and floated down the gilded steps. Row after row of blazer-clad students rose begrudgingly to their feet, cheering halfheartedly as their queen floated toward the exit. In the back row, Elin gave a listless golf-clap while I attempted to hide my eye-roll.
“That was pointless,” I fumed. “She wants our help in locating the crystal, but gives no additional information. She builds us up as ‘beacons of light in a dangerous world,’ when she’s personally smothering it in darkness. Who does she think she is?”
“Queen of Alfheim,” Elin said wryly. “She Who Does No Wrong.”
“Apparently.” I caught Signy’s eye as we exited the address. She moved swiftly to my side. “What’s the verdict? Did she agree to the meeting?”
“She’ll see you after she debriefs her advisors.”
“Good.” I planned to let her have it.
Elin looked back and forth between the two of us. “You guys going to clue me in?”
“I’m going to talk to the queen and ask her to remove the barrier.” Air streamed from my pursed lips. “I’ll fill you in later.”
Elin’s eyes widened. “You need help?”
“Signy’ll be with me. But thanks.”
As we moved away from the Great Hall, Minister Narrik appeared outside one of the lounges. Darkness seeped from his military jacket to his shiny boots, the only pop of color the red rank patches at his chest and shoulder. He gave Signy a curt nod before stepping through an open door.
“It’s time. Let’s go, Aura.” Signy linked her arm through mine.
“You have to meet with him, too? Yikes. Good luck,” Elin whispered.
“Thanks.” I turned on one heel and let Signy lead me into the lounge. Queen Constance stood by the window, her elongated wings glimmering softly in the recessed lights. Minister Narrik took up a position by the door, feet shoulder width apart and hands folded behind the small of his back. Was he just going to stare at us the whole time?
“You may be seated, Aura.” The queen gestured to one of the loveseats. “Signy, you may leave.”
“Again, no.” Signy squeezed my hand.
I so loved her.
The queen’s nostrils flared, but she looked down her nose at me and simply said, “Well?”
“Well, what?” I countered.
“Why have you requested this meeting?” Queen Constance’s eyes darted around the room. For the first time, I noticed the armed guards positioned in each corner. Did she think I was going to try to hurt her? Or was she just reminding me that we weren’t alone—and that if things went south, I was the one who’d need protecting?
I drew a steady breath and faced the queen head on. “Your barrier has led to countless deaths. It’s an outdated, fear-based defense that has caused nothing but heartbreak and loss. As crown princess of Alfheim, I lodge a formal request that you remove the blockade to prevent further loss of life, and to allow entry to those beings who seek a better existence for themselves and for their families.”
Narrik’s forceful exhale sliced through the tension. The queen silenced him with a pointed look before turning her attention to me. “The crown princess is powerless over the regent. Your demand carries no weight and is dismissed. Will there be anything else?”
Frustration bubbled beneath my skin, but I pushed it down in the name of diplomacy. “You know as well as I do that plenty of off-worlders want to improve their lives. My father wanted that for himself, and for me. Denying immigration on the basis of residence is punitive, and counter to the purpose of our so-called Light Realm.”
“How do you know about your father?” the queen barked.
“My mother explained everything to Signy,” I lied. No way was I letting my grandmother know I’d communicated with Kegoth. She’d have him sent to the perma-void for sure. “Come on. You have to agree your ban is overly restrictive.”
The queen narrowed her eyes. “We cannot discern intentions, Aura, and I am unwilling to place my realm at risk by allowing entry to other-worlders who may or may not be worthy.”
“Worthy—do you even hear yourself?” She was using useless parameters. The real test of good vs. evil lay in one’s character—something the Empati could easily read, if given the chance.
That was it! We didn’t need a barrier—we had the tools to protect our realm within the walls of the academy. The queen had just been too blinded by fear or bigotry or whatever pas
sed for sense inside her twisted head to see it. I leaned forward, excitement quickening my words. “Hold on—there’s a way we can both get what we want. You can protect Alfheim and let off-worlders in. You can totally discern intentions! You’re standing in the middle of a school with an entire curriculum devoted to reading minds, chakras, auras, hidden agendas, all of it. Our Empati could easily evaluate the intentions of refugees and—”
“Off-worlders cannot be trusted.”
I pushed my frustration back down. “If I approached your council, told them that I am personally willing to oversee an Empati led—”
“My council answers to me, Aura. Not to a teenage girl, regardless of her lineage.” The queen sneered. “So long as I am alive, I will devote myself to the protection of my people. I have always done what I believe to be in their best interest, and I will continue to do so.”
“Even when ‘their best interest’ gets your citizens killed?” I challenged. “Is that really the kind of ruler you are?”
Narrik’s low growl made me shiver. But I held my ground.
“You could never understand,” the queen dismissed.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Enlighten me.”
Constance pulled her shoulders back. Her chest strained against a deep inhalation, and though she bit down on her bottom lip, she kept her head high. “When I was a girl, my best friend was murdered in the castle garden. The arrow was meant for me. It was Svartalfheim’s first attempt on my life. Dozens more would follow.”
“I’m . . . sorry.”
The queen brushed off my sympathy with a flick of her wrist. “When my daughter informed me that she intended to marry a dark elf, I could only fathom the horrors he could inflict on Alfheim from its throne. I forbade the union but Lily did as she had always done; she chose her heart over her duty. The barrier was constructed so that when Svartalfheim attacked, we would be ready. And when the day came, though we weren’t without our casualties, the key members of our government were saved.”