The Queen's Choice

by Cayla Kluver

  I closed my eyes in sad acknowledgment that she was right. We did not know our way around the castle, and even if we had been able to intercept Hastings, we would never have been able to haul the incapacitated Prince away with us.

  Unwilling to wait for long, Illumina moved off, and I followed, up stairways and down corridors until by some miracle we found an exterior door in the fortress’s stone wall. Without hesitation, Illumina blew it off its hinges. It landed in blazing glory along the tree line. Panting, I clutched at my side, stealing a moment’s rest.

  A rush of wind heralded a massive crackling, and I turned to see a cluster of trees erupt into flames, lit by the door Illumina had set on fire. The devastation on Evernook Island would be massive, and it would take us with it given the chance. I could only hope Zabriel—and absurdly Hastings and his men—would get out safely.

  We pushed through the weald with flames roaring after us, shouts and the sounds of weapons growing nearer. Several times I tripped, my near-human form lacking its former strength and agility. I glanced at Illumina, wondering how deep her hatred of humans really ran. Would she take to the air and leave me behind if I slowed her down too much? And could I really blame her if she did?

  The fire was spreading with incredible speed, fed by timber that was dry from winter and age. When we finally broke onto the beach, I swerved away from the men lunging at one another, the clattering of their swords at times drowned out by the reports of guns. Smoke hung over everything like thick fog, dulling my senses. The boom of cannon fire added to the chaos, Fane and his ship apparently close enough to join the fray. Illumina clutched at my arm, offering no assistance now that she’d gotten us this far. She’d done her part; it was up to me to guide us the rest of the way.

  I took the lead, skirting obstacles and scrambling through rocky terrain. When at last the water came into view—inky black with a shimmer of moonlight across its surface—I wanted to collapse in relief. But the whiz of a bullet past my ear negated that idea. Grabbing Illumina’s cloak, I hauled her behind the shelter of a pile of rocks. At least a dozen men were on the shorefront, crouching behind stray boulders while they fired pistol shots at each other. And some among them had surely set eyes on us.

  “Any ideas?” I hissed to Illumina, wrapping an arm around my ribs to give them support, breath coming in pained gasps.

  “Fire is always an option.” Anger simmered in her voice, as if these men were the sole cause of our troubles.

  “No! Some of those men are Fane’s. Besides, you can’t reach them when they’re shielded by stone.”

  “I can fly,” she retorted.

  “And they could shoot you down. Those guns have good range, you know. Even if you survived, you could lose your wings and end up like me. Is that what you want?”

  The ricochet of a bullet off the rubble at our feet added a jolt of reality to my words, and forestalled Illumina’s reply. Nevertheless, our problem remained.

  When two of the men stood to rush their foes, a round of bullets from their hidden comrades providing cover, I seized the opportunity.

  “Let’s go!” I coughed, my lungs burning from the smoke that descended from the air like a blanket.

  With Illumina stumbling in my wake, we disappeared into the haze, covering our lower faces with our sleeves. We headed toward a cliff face I had spotted that lay farther up the shoreline, abutting the water. Just when I thought I might pass out, we emerged onto the sand once more, the battle at last behind us. I limped toward the water, my lungs clamoring for fresh air. While I didn’t know where we were, one thing was certain—we were nowhere near our boat.

  “What do we do?” I croaked.

  “Swim,” Illumina grimly suggested.

  I stared at her, wanting to cry. Not into those freezing eddies and bone-crushing waves. Please, anything but that. Yet we had no choice. Steeling myself, I stood and floundered into the water, praying my fresh injuries and fear wouldn’t defeat me. Illumina rushed forward, not tentative in the least.

  My teeth began to chatter, and it wasn’t much longer before the ill-famed currents around Evernook took hold of us. I kicked hard and fast, the cold numbing my pain, and we shed our cloaks to make it easier to keep our heads above water. Just as Zabriel had rowed the dinghy across the eddies, we likewise swam at an angle to their pull. But they ultimately proved too strong, and the distance to the mainland too great. We wouldn’t make it back, even if we’d known in what direction we needed to go.

  My body was deadened from exhaustion and shock, and my remaining clothing weighed me down. I struggled, sculling with my arms and legs but making no progress. Illumina’s black hair made her difficult to see, but as the inferno on Evernook gobbled up more trees, moving ever nearer the island’s rocky perimeter, the water lit up. For a moment, I thought the sun was rising, then I shook my head and the illusion cleared. I bobbed like a cork, my strength giving out, and Illumina pulled my arms over her shoulders in a surprising display of willpower. Feeling a churning in the water, I realized she was using her waterlogged wings to keep us afloat.

  It was because of the fire that we were found. We could easily have vanished into the ocean and been lost forever, but a short time later, Illumina was filled with renewed energy, loudly hailing a vessel of some sort. I peeled my eyes open to see a longboat tossed about on the waves, Shea at the helm, directing the sailors where to row.

  “Thank God we saw you,” she panted, helping to balance the boat so one of the strong-armed men could hoist me to safety. He then reached for Illumina, whose shroud had already risen, picking her up by her clothing to rescue her, as well. “What the hell happened?”

  I tried to answer, but my jaw, like the rest of my body, was stiff and uncooperative.

  “Here,” Shea said, shifting to my side and stripping wet layers from my torso, deftly replacing my clothing with a warm, dry blanket and her own cloak, pulling the hood over my head. She did the same for Illumina, while the sailors rowed in a united effort to bring us home.

  “Hastings was there,” I finally managed, and the color drained from my friend’s face. “He shot Za...Pyrite. He didn’t even hesitate.”

  “Is—is Pyrite... Is he...”

  “No, he’s not dead. Not yet, anyway. It was through the shoulder. But that ogre has him now, and he’ll take him to Luka or the Governor to collect the reward. We’ll never get him out of there, not without revealing who he really is. And that’s the one thing my aunt wanted to avoid at all costs.”

  I’d given up caring what the sailors heard. I doubted they were listening, anyway.

  “What do you think they’ll do with him?” Shea’s voice trembled, and she turned her face from me. Concerned, I laid a hand on her arm in comfort. Unfortunately, I had no words that could do the same.

  “They could execute him, Shea. That’s what they do with criminals and pirates.” A worse thought struck me, and I gagged, digging my fingernails into Shea’s skin. “Hastings knows he’s Fae. And someone at Evernook has been experimenting on Faeries. Mutilating them, killing them. What if they...” My throat was too tight for me to finish the sentence.

  “None of this was supposed to happen,” Shea murmured, closing her eyes and steepling her fingers over her mouth.

  “I know.” I tried to muster some hope. “We’ll talk to Fane. He’ll have an idea what to do.”

  She nodded, gazing out at the sea, despair written all over her face. I likewise glanced around, realizing that the surface of the water was filling with other craft headed to Evernook either to assist or observe, for there was little possibility of putting out the fire. In her zeal to escape, Illumina had likely destroyed every trace of evidence that the horrors we’d discovered existed, and whatever the stone walls of the castle managed to preserve would be discarded. Still, she’d ruined everything the Fae-haters had been working on, and I could take satisfacti
on in that.

  “How about you?” I asked, suspecting Shea would also have encountered danger this night. “How did things go with Fane?”

  A touch of dramatic thrill entered her voice, despite the overall wretched outcome of this night.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. The captain maneuvered his ship to cut off the Dementya vessel, then disabled it with cannon fire. The pirates clamored over to the transport ship, and a lot of brutal fighting ensued. In truth, everything happened so fast I had no idea which side was winning. But in the end, Fane’s men confiscated the cargo and sank the Dementya ship, putting the surviving sailors into longboats. In some ways, it was the most awful thing I’ve ever seen. And yet, I’d do it again. It’s sick, but addicting. I know that already.”

  “Do you know how many died?”

  “No, just that there were casualties.” Shea leaned toward me, rubbing my arms to warm them. “The Dementya crew took more losses than the pirates. I heard Fane say he only lost one man, though a lot of them were bleeding when they got back on deck. I suppose the numbers make sense, though. Raiding ships is more or less a pirate’s occupation, so they’d better be good at it.”

  “Sounds terrible,” I muttered, not wanting to accept that Zabriel had undoubtedly been at the helm in similar skirmishes. “Not what I’d consider a fine way to live.”

  Shea and I hunkered down in the longboat to be rowed ashore, while Illumina continued to gaze at the chaos she had wrought, a proud tilt to her jaw. Evernook Island looked as though it would crumble into the sea, taking all its secrets with it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  TRAITOR

  I awoke early the next morning to shouting and only a vague recollection of the events following Zabriel’s capture. I pushed myself upright, and gasped in pain. Sharp, breath-stopping radiations threaded my ribs, and I went stock-still until the hurt had abated enough for me to open my eyes and look around. I was in a bed at Aunt Roxy’s, blankets and hot-water bottles piled around me. Illumina was curled at my side, having just roused with an expression as bewildered as mine. I studied her, the fog in my head gradually clearing—we had been found by Shea, ferried back to shore, and carried to the house. Sleep had been Illumina’s and my retreat from the cold, shock, and exhaustion we’d suffered.

  Spex was the only other person upstairs with us, occupying a bed for a change. I supposed with the vacancies last night had provided, Roxy had opened her heart a little and let the spotter be more comfortable. Not too comfortable, however. He was still shackled by one hand to the bedpost.

  Heavy footfalls resounded from the main floor, and the shouting that had dragged me from unconsciousness recommenced.

  “I want to know what happened!” Fane’s voice thundered. “Where the hell is he?”

  Aunt Roxy spoke at a normal volume and I couldn’t quite make out her words, but it was no mystery they were discussing Zabriel. I eased out of bed, trying to be gentle to my cracked and bruised body, and tossed one of the many blankets around my shoulders. I was the one who had the answers Fane was seeking.

  I descended the stairs at the quickest pace I could manage. By the time I reached the bottom, I was gripping the rail for support.

  Roxy was beating an old rug in the middle of her living room. I didn’t question the logic in transferring dirt from one floor surface to another—perhaps she just needed to be busy. Fane had one hand on the mantel above the fireplace and was looking downward, his body as tense as the words I’d heard him exclaim moments before. Aware of my presence, Roxy ceased what she was doing, and both she and the captain turned my way.

  “Where’s Shea?” I asked, for she had not been upstairs. Surely she would have already told them a few things about last night.

  “Pyrite never made it back,” Fane announced, as though I had not spoken. “Where is he?”

  I frowned, not quite comprehending the situation. “But hasn’t Shea—”

  Fane slammed his hand against the mantel, shocking the whole house into stillness. I could have sworn the clock on the end table missed a tick. “I don’t give a damn about her right now! Do you know what became of Pyrite, or should I be out searching the water for his body?”

  I bristled, my overwrought mind and body rebelling against the old pirate’s tone, which seemed to imply he cared more about Zabriel than I did.

  “We were ambushed in the warehouse. A man named Hastings was in charge. My cousin took a sky iron bullet in the shoulder before he was captured.”

  Fane sank into a chair, more aware than I was of the significance of Zabriel’s capture on all fronts. Whether he was convicted of piracy and executed or the Fae managed to secure his life by revealing his identity to the Governor, his days as William Wolfram Pyrite were over. We couldn’t discuss the ramifications in front of Aunt Roxy, but that conclusion required no corroboration.

  “Hastings?” Fane repeated. “That’s not a name I know.”

  “He’s a Fae-hunter, used to oversee Spex in Oaray. I’ve had the misfortune of a few run-ins with him.”

  “Then we need to find out where Pyrite is being held. If he’s still local, we may be able to spring him.”

  I hid the sympathy from my gaze, suspecting Fane wouldn’t appreciate it. No part of me believed Hastings would have dawdled in taking Zabriel far from his allies and fellow pirates in Sheness. If Fane didn’t recognize it on some level now, he would when he calmed down. I still had worse news to deliver.

  “Hastings was able to take Pyrite into custody last night because somebody told him where to look. The only thing I’m sure of is it wasn’t me.”

  I let my words resonate in the air, examining Fane’s glare, made twice as disconcerting by his bloodshot, mismatched eyes. Roxy looked equally distraught, her mouth agape, the rest of her features drooping more than usual. I watched for signs of guilt, but saw nothing except manic fervor in the old pirate, and a crestfallen loneliness in the house matron at what she instinctively knew was a permanent loss. She’d cared for Zabriel, really cared for him, even though she didn’t know his real identity.

  A banging on the door startled us all back to life. Dropping her rug in a pile on the floor, Roxy went to answer it, her scowl revealing she wasn’t expecting company. She’d opened it no more than a crack when Gwyneth blew across the threshold with the urgency and grace of a diving hawk.

  “I just heard it from my father,” she announced, removing her black lace gloves one finger at a time, elegant as ever, although her hands were noticeably trembling. “The men are saying Pyrite’s out of the way. That he’s dead or captured. It’s all speculation, and Luka Ivanova won’t confirm or deny. What’s really going on?”

  “He’s been arrested,” Fane told her. “We don’t know the complete circumstances yet.”

  “Goddamn it,” Gwyneth murmured, punching her gloves into the basin of her flowered hat and throwing the whole package aside. “Damn. What went wrong?”

  “According to Anya, somebody turned, sold him out.”

  Though usually ready with a rejoinder, Gwyneth had no swift response to Fane’s proclamation, lips parted in the silence.

  “How do you know that?” she asked at length, her amber eyes landing on me.

  “Hastings told us,” Illumina called from the top of the stairway. She had emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, and now sat on one of the upper steps. “He’s involved somehow in the Fae abductions, and he rubbed it in our faces. But he wouldn’t say who snitched.”

  “Please, what would I gain by turning Pyrite in?” Gwyneth snapped, catching me off guard. I’d been searching her pristine features for secrets, much like I had with Aunt Roxy and the captain, and she’d noticed my stare. “The whole bounty on his head wouldn’t have paid for this ring on my finger. I already have money and power, the best of both worlds.” She hesitated, her point already e
stablished, then added one final thought. “And he’s my friend. One of the only people who actually knows me. I wouldn’t want to be rid of him. Not ever.”

  She seemed sincere enough, vulnerable even. But I’d seen her blatantly lie to her father with an innocent smile, the epitome of a loving, doting daughter, and I wasn’t sure I was immune from falling for her act. In the end, her logic was what steered me toward believing her. I couldn’t imagine anything she would gain by having Zabriel captured.

  “If I’d gone to the authorities, I’d have been arrested myself,” Fane offered. “Think what you will of me, but you know that’s true.”

  Roxy picked up her rug and laid it by the door, pushing the corners into place with the tip of her slipper. With her back to us, I was probably alone in noticing the movement of her arm. She was wiping her nose with her sleeve.

  “I’ve got a hundred men coming in and out this house with a hundred prices on their heads,” she grumbled, voice betraying none of her emotion. “If snitching was my game, I’d be living high and mighty, not in this dump.”

  My thoughts strayed to Illumina, perched above me like a sharp little bird. She wanted the throne upon Ubiqua’s death, and Zabriel had been her only remaining obstacle until last night. For a fleeting moment in the underground garden, I’d considered her as a suspect. But I’d decided in the same breath that her ambition couldn’t stretch that far. And she might well be the reason I was alive today to suspect anyone. After everything she’d done to see me safely off the island, I couldn’t think of accusing her.

  Fane lumbered to his feet, having no such reservations. “What about you?” he bellowed up to her. “What’s your story?”

  “I didn’t betray him,” she calmly responded, descending the stairs to join us.

  “She can’t lie,” I reminded Fane before he could say anything more. “It’s not her.”

  “The little shit’s been chained up since you brought him here, so it couldn’t have been him,” Roxy piped up, curtailing all inquiries about Spex, the next obvious culprit. That left only one person among our immediate company who had known the details of our plan.