False Queen

by Nikki Jefford

  “Do not forget I competed in that tournament as well, Almon.”

  “Apologies, Commander.” The male hung his head.

  Ryo had more manners than I ever would. He stood perfectly poised and polite despite the insult to his race. Maybe dining with my dad wouldn’t be such a bad thing—a little hospitality to make up for pit heads like Mr. Ponytail here.

  “So, what do we do now?” I asked. “How can we help?”

  Keerla sighed heavily. “Until we find a way to lift the enchantment, I’ve ordered everyone not to engage. We’re monitoring the ogres at all times, but I will not allow any more lives to be lost.”

  My heart sank into my gut.

  Keerla stood rigid, all traces of warmth drained from her body. “Devdan and his team should return within the hour, and we’ll find out if the ogres still sleep.”

  His name felt like a boulder rolled onto my chest.

  “Then I’ll wait here for his report if that’s okay.”

  “Of course,” Keerla said.

  “I’m going to check on my guards,” Ryo said, backing out of the tent.

  Keerla looked around at the remaining company. “Sana, Almon, Conall, please give Melarue and me a moment.”

  “Of course, Commander,” Almon said, hurrying out before the other two elves. He looked like he was trying to make up for sticking his foot in his mouth earlier.

  Conall slipped out next, followed by Sana.

  “Sorry, there isn’t anywhere to sit in here,” Keerla said.

  I took a quick look around the tent. It was spacious but unfurnished, other than the oak table with lanterns set between a map of Pinemist. I assumed the gray stones piled on the south end of the map represented the ogres. I wanted to wipe them all off the map—a promise of what was to come.

  Behind the table, long rugs had been stretched over the grass with thick bedrolls placed over them. I counted three in total. Did Keerla and the two males share the tent? Did that mean Sana shared a sleeping tent with Devdan? Or maybe Keerla slept alone in a smaller tent and Sana shared this one at night with the two males.

  Arg! I was driving myself crazy. All that mattered was Devdan was safe I kept reminding myself.

  “I’m not one for sitting,” I muttered.

  Keerla chuckled. “I can see that.”

  I stopped in my tracks, realizing I was pacing back and forth like a tiger caged in a mortal zoo. I sighed, rubbing my thumb against the pommel of the sword, wishing I could start putting it to use.

  Keerla followed the motion. “I understand your frustration,” she said.

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked.

  “We have a team digging a pit near their campsite. Devdan had the idea of digging holes and covering them, then taunting the ogres to give chase while we led them to the pit and leaped over while they fell through.”

  “Awesome idea,” I said, my heart lifting with pride. Way to go, Dev. I wanted to high-five him. My shoulders sagged in the next instant, wondering if I’d lost him as both a boyfriend and a friend.

  “Yes, it is. Too bad the pit is taking so long to dig. The ground is half frozen, and we need it to be deep to do any good.” Keerla covered her cheeks with her hands and slid them off slowly. “So, Aerith is well?”

  “Sorta,” I said, leaning over the table. “She’s got an angry mob to deal with over in Dahlquist. If only we’d been able to end Albedo and Malon before they had a chance to slip away.” I picked up a stone and dropped it back over the pile.

  “Will she and Jhaeros be returning soon?” Keerla asked hopefully.

  At least someone would be happy to see her back in Pinemist. I couldn’t say much for the rest of the townsfolk. Aerith had way more patience than I. Elves and their small-town attitudes made me want to light things on fire. I didn’t see myself settling down in Pinemist. I wasn’t sure where I belonged.

  “I know she’s eager to return home,” I said. “But not until she finds a replacement to rule the kingdom while Liri gets his mate back from the mortal realm.”

  “Will the prince outside the tent stand in?”

  “Or his cousin.” I shrugged. “I’m no fan of Liri’s, but now would be a nice time for him to return.”

  “But you said Aerith doesn’t expect that to happen soon?”

  I turned away from the table and shrugged.

  We still didn’t fully know what we were dealing with. Aerith had told me that Liri wasn’t familiar with the spell placed over Hensley. I was willing to bet that the same sorceress who had enchanted the human had also placed the protection over the ogres attacking Pinemist.

  Just dandy.

  “Keerla?” I asked curiously. “Why did you compete in that tournament with my sister?” I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought to ask before. Demonstrating her weapons mastery seemed natural, but marrying a Fae prince didn’t make sense. Keerla didn’t strike me as the princess, or Mrs., type. No, commander suited her much better.

  She sat halfway on the edge of the table and stared distantly at the tent’s flap. “My nan was ill. We were very close. She raised me after my mother died of the pox. I wanted to take her someplace warmer with the best healers in all the realms.” Keerla sighed.

  “Did she—?” I didn’t want to say the word.

  Keerla glanced upward. “Moved on to the sky realm,” she said. Her eyes drifted back down and met mine. “That’s why I left Bluespark. Being home without her was too painful.”

  My throat tightened, and my chin trembled. “I’m so sorry, Keerla,” I said softly.

  “She lived a good life.”

  Silence fell over the tent until Sana came running in, her face pale. Almon and Conall were right behind her. “The ogres are on the move,” she gasped.

  Keerla stood up.

  “Where?” she demanded.

  “Not far from the south border,” Sana answered. “They’re smashing nearby cottages. Devdan and his team are evacuating the last of the residents who hadn’t already left when the ogres settled at the forest’s edge.”

  “I’ll help him,” I said, striding toward the tent’s opening.

  “I will too,” Sana practically growled.

  “No. I need you here, Sana,” Keerla said.

  I curled my tongue inside my mouth to keep from sticking it out at Sana. I could have given Keerla another hug for holding back the overly eager female.

  “And Mel, be careful,” Keerla called after me.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” I said, lifting a hand in farewell.

  Outside the tent, I looked from right to left until I spotted Ryo and his guards surrounding one of the burning barrels. I jogged over.

  “The ogres are on the move,” I said. “We need to help evacuate homes.”

  “All right, let’s go,” Ryo said in a commanding voice.

  “Can you portal us there? Is there a pocket somewhere nearby?” I asked, impatient to get there now.

  Ryo shook his head.

  “There is, but I am unfamiliar with this landscape. I cannot blindly portal someplace I’ve never been. Folas created my first portal to Pinemist—the one into Jhaeros’s guest chamber. After that, I was able to do it on my own, but if I blindly tried to go someplace I’ve never been, we’d very likely end up back in Faerie.”

  “Well, let’s hurry then,” I said, trying not to let disappointment drag me down.

  Traveling by foot was going to take about an hour and a half if we jogged the whole way. At least Ryo should be able to portal us back to base camp now that he’d been there.

  We didn’t talk on the way to the south edge of Pinemist, saving our breath for the steady pace I’d set.

  This time, when we neared the ogres, it wasn’t so quiet. For one thing, the streets were filled with elves racing from their cottages, clutching anything they could carry, including baskets that overspilled with goods. This was a more modest neighborhood. Instead of carriages, families threw everything they could into wheelbarrows and set
off trundling whatever possessions they could manage down the dirt road.

  Kids were crying, parents shouting to hurry along. A baby wailed in a young elf’s arms.

  Pressure built inside my jaw as I clenched my teeth.

  The next block of cottages was just as chaotic. After that, the roads became clear. Random articles of clothing and kitchenware littered yards, things that had probably dropped from baskets and wheelbarrows during the hasty flight. Daffodils were trampled and birdbaths knocked over.

  The sounds of loud grunts and crashing filled my ears. A male and female elf, roughly my age, came running down the road. They would have run right past us if I hadn’t yelled at them to stop.

  “What’s going on up there?” I demanded.

  The couple bounced in place, their gazes darting down the road toward safety.

  “Ogres,” the male said.

  “Yes, we know that. How many?”

  “We didn’t exactly stick around to count,” he grumped.

  “Four,” the female said.

  “Thanks,” I told her, but she and the male were already off and running.

  Well, at least not all seven were out smashing cottages. Maybe the other three were sleeping in.

  I was at full speed now, racing down the middle of the road, leaping over potholes. The jingle of armor trailed behind me, rushing onto the scene that unfolded before us.

  Monstrous gray ogres, twice as tall as I was with hides as thick as a rhino’s, punched through cottage walls and roofs with big, fat fists.

  My heart dropped like a lead ball as I watched an ogre rip a door from its hinges as easily as tearing off a chunk of bread. He chucked the door through a glass window and grunted with laughter as it smashed to pieces.

  His friends did the same thing, crushing and pulling homes apart until nothing remained beyond a pile of rubble.

  These monsters were picking on the underprivileged.

  I supposed a cottage was easier to smash than a mansion.

  I thought of the cottage Aerith and I had shared for a short time and what it had represented. Independence. Comfort. Shelter.

  These ogres were destroying dwellings and all the happy memories and keepsakes within. There would be no home sweet home for these elves to return to.

  And I was supposed to just stand here doing nothing about it.

  Ryo drew his sword. The flash of sun on steel caught my attention. I’d been so distracted by the destruction I’d forgotten he was there.

  His eyes had turned wintery cold, and his lip drew back in an angry sneer as he glared at the nearest ogre pounding his gray fist through a wall.

  Adrenaline spiked through my chest. A memory of Ryo motionless and bleeding in the courtyard at Dahlquist flashed through my mind, morphing into a new one of him, bones crushed and body smashed to pulp.

  I jumped in front of him. “Keerla said not to attack—not until the enchantment is broken or we find another way to subdue them.” The words sprinted from my lips, keeping pace with my racing heart.

  Ryo’s brows pinched together. “So we’re just going to let them demolish the entire town?” he demanded, sounding every bit as frustrated as I felt.

  “Not a chance,” I seethed. “We need to come up with a plan.”

  Before inspiration could strike, someone screamed behind us. We turned to see a middle-aged female running down the same road we’d just traversed. Her brown hair was wild around her shoulders, the whites of her eyes flashing as she reached us and pointed into the melee.

  “My mom is still in there,” she shrieked.

  My heart twisted as I thought of Keerla and her nan. “Which cottage?” I asked.

  “The yellow one, there,” the female said, shaking her finger at a cottage nestled among thick-trunked towering trees that looked hundreds of years old. “She fell and broke her hip a couple weeks ago. I was just on my way back from the healer’s with a tincture to help dull the pain while I moved her to a shelter north of here.”

  So far, it looked like the trees had helped shield the home from the marauding ogres. The thick-headed brutes were going for the easiest cottages out in the open. But once those were all smashed, what was to stop them from swiping trees out of their way to get to the remaining cottage?

  It was up to me to get the elderly elf out.

  “We’ll get your mom,” I said, then took off running for the cottage.

  Cold air stung my eyes as my feet pounded over firm earth. My footsteps were fast and light. When I neared the yellow cottage, my steps seemed to boom out and shake the leaves from the branches in the cluster of trees ahead.

  “Mel!” Ryo yelled.

  “Mel!” came a second male voice farther off. Devdan?

  The next part of their warning was drowned out by the thundering footfalls that made the earth shake behind me.

  I didn’t have to glance over my shoulder to know that an ogre was chasing me down and would trample me into the ground if it caught up.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Melarue

  A

  rms pumping, legs hurtling, and heart pounding in my chest, I darted forward, dashing for the trees.

  Seven hells! I was leading the damn thing straight to Granny.

  The ground settled when the ogre stopped outside the cluster of trees and roared in frustration. Unfortunately, the blockage was only temporary.

  Peeking from behind a thick trunk, I watched as the ogre ripped a tree from the earth, its roots dangling in the sky as rich, dark soil rained down.

  Without a second thought, I stepped around the trunk and aimed both hands at the ogre, lighting the tree on fire in his meaty palm. He stared at it a moment before shrieking and dropping the burning bark. The ogre lowered his head and roared at the burning tree. He lifted one leg and brought it down, smashing through the trunk. He shrieked again and jumped back.

  Beings of higher intelligence, ogres were not. But they were deadly.

  I turned and ran the remaining fifteen feet to the cottage. Pushing open the door, I hurried inside.

  A granny elf with loose silvery white hair sat quivering beneath a quilted blanket from her spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room.

  “Sorry to barge in, but it’s time to go,” I said, striding the short distance to the elderly female.

  “I thought you’d forgotten me,” she rasped.

  “Nope.”

  Maybe she had me confused with her daughter. Didn’t matter. I needed to get the granny out of there, and if she couldn’t walk, I was in trouble.

  “Mel, I’m here,” a robust male voice announced.

  Relief mixed with butterflies, and sugared bliss filled my belly as Devdan joined my side.

  Brown stubble with hints of copper covered his chin and cheeks, giving him an older, rugged look.

  “Dev,” I breathed, tears filling my eyes.

  His mouth slackened. He took a tentative step toward me, drinking me up with eyes that shone.

  The sugary bliss spun circles in my belly, turning fluffy like cotton candy.

  His look told me everything. He still cared for me.

  Then why hadn’t he at least left me a note?

  Before I could decide whether to scold him or smack him, Ryo and two of his guards ran into the cottage breathing hard.

  “The other eight are holding off the ogre, but we need to get the female out of here now,” Ryo said, panting.

  The two Fae guards who had burst in with him hurried over to the frail woman. One lifted her gently into his arms. The other guard led the retreat to the front door.

  Outside, the ogre bellowed as he tried to kick and stomp on the guards. Thankfully they moved with super speed, blurring as they dashed out of the way of the ogre’s heavy foot. A second ogre bellowed from nearby.

  Pitberries.

  The only reason we were holding ground was because we only had one ogre to contend with. If more came, we were in serious trouble.

  “Go,” Ryo said to the gu
ard holding the granny elf. “You too,” he said to the second guard. “Watch Taron’s back.” Looking at Devdan and me, Ryo said, “You two should go too.”

  The ogre ripped another tree from the ground and threw it at a guard who ducked down just in time to avoid having his face bashed in.

  No way. I wasn’t going anywhere. And we weren’t losing any more of Dahlquist’s guards. I already felt responsible for the four we’d lost to the mob.

  The ogre tore two more trees from the ground. I waited until they were squeezed tight in his fists before spreading my arms wide and calling forth the fury deep within the center of my power. Flames burst from the branches and licked down the trunks. I lowered my arms and lit his tattered loincloth on fire next. The ogre dropped the flaming trees and jumped from one foot to the other as the blazing cloth singed his gray hide.

  He shrieked and bellowed, jumping up and down, causing the earth around us to shake and crack.

  “Now would be a good time for all of us to go,” Devdan said.

  But when the ogre threw himself on the ground, rolling from side to side, I saw my chance. I drew my sword and rushed at it.

  “Swords,” Ryo yelled to his guards, drawing his blade.

  We charged, raining steel upon the fallen ogre. Ryo was a dark blur. I could see why Fae stuck to swords rather than arrows when they were so fast they could deliver a cut in the blink of an eye.

  The ogre roared and turned to his side, preparing to stand, but nine Fae were on him like flies over a rotting carcass, stabbing him all at once. I couldn’t keep up with them, so I sliced through the back of his neck instead. Devdan ran over, sword drawn, and hacked at the ogre’s ankle.

  Our eleven blades made the ogre cry out—a pained holler that cut across my heart despite the destruction and lives taken by these creatures. This had to be done. He’d invaded our home. I had no choice.

  I stabbed him again, deeper.

  It seemed as though the ogre was making one last attempt to get to his knees when he jerked and rolled back instead. My eyes widened as a wrinkled wall of thick gray hide came rushing down at me. Why wouldn’t my feet move? It was as though I stood stuck in three feet of mud.