Witch Queen

by Kim Richardson

  “Can’t you see she’s dead, you fool?” laughed the witch queen. “A real steel maiden would have survived that blow of magic. But as she is an imposter—the human whore is dead. Whatever scheme you had planned has failed.”

  Her face twisted like a vicious animal. “Enough with these lies. Kill him, my love.”

  The witch queen wiped her brow with a long, manicured finger.

  “He was always too soft. His heart is weak. He never had the stomach to do your bidding, my love. He left your side all those years ago because he wouldn’t stand with a dark witch. I’m tired of looking upon his weak, useless face. Kill him.”

  “Be quiet,” ordered the witch king.

  A flash of anger showed in the witch queen’s violet eyes, but then her expression softened as she appeared to obey him.

  The king turned on Fawkes again. But he hesitated, and I could see him struggling with something. It was clear that they had known each other a very long time. I suspected the king wouldn't be so easily manipulated by his nagging wife. He was a prick, but at least he could see through her horseshit.

  I choked on my own blood. The king’s power had staggered me, but my body had taken all that force into itself, as if it were the most natural thing to absorb and recycle it. Now every muscle in my body felt stronger than steel, and every bone felt unbreakable. I moved my fingers and my feet. I kept moving and stretching as my heart pounded with the most thrilling and purest rush of power I’d ever experienced.

  Just when I had thought the witch king’s dark magic was impossible to resist, my own magic had coursed through me and purged me of it.

  I was iron. I was strong. And I would not be defeated.

  My vision cleared, and I rose effortlessly to my feet and wiped the blood from my mouth. I looked at the witch queen first, and I almost laughed out loud. Her wide eyes and gaping mouth made her look like a rainbow trout with swollen red lips. I smiled my best smile at her.

  The only other witch in the chamber who seemed genuinely happy to see me on my feet was Aurion, the witch prince. He smiled as much as I did and tipped his head in silent congratulations.

  I could hear other witches draw in their breaths in surprise. If I hadn’t been furious and disgusted at them, I might have taken a bow.

  Fawkes smiled, too, and I was pleased to see the relief on his face. I picked up my sword, sheathed it in my belt and made my way towards the men. Will, Leo, Nugar, and even Lucas seemed relieved at my miraculous recovery and smiled with renewed hope.

  “Impossible,” exclaimed the witch king. His entire focus was on me once again. But in his black eyes, I saw a flash of fear that might take him over the edge.

  “I am what Fawkes says. I’m a steel maiden, like my mother before me,” I said, and then added, “witch king.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” said the witch king.

  His eyes showed the same adoring and disturbing gaze I had seen before.

  “And so much like your mother, you are.”

  Something I didn’t understand also showed in his face. Was it attraction? Hope? And by the way the witch queen shot daggers at me, I knew she had seen it too.

  “My king,” said the witch queen, a light tremor in her voice, “you can’t possibly believe this trick? She’s no steel maiden. I can smell the human stink on her. She’s an imposter. Kill her. I demand that you kill her.”

  But the witch king ignored her, and his eyes never left my face.

  “What is your name?”

  I raised my chin. “Elena, witch king.”

  “Elena,” repeated the king, letting my name run over his lips slowly. It made me feel like throwing up.

  “And where are you from, Elena.”

  I struggled not to react violently to his oily stare. “From Anglia. From the Pit.”

  “She’s no better than a rabid dog,” exclaimed the witch queen.

  I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of looking at her this time.

  The witch king looked as if my answer had disgusted him. My hatred for him intensified.

  “A jewel of Witchdom, born in the very slums of the human waste,” he said. “How unfortunate.”

  I straightened and looked him straight in the eye.

  “I’ve come to ask for your help,” I said quickly before he decided to blast me with his magic again.

  The witch king motioned for me to continue, and I told him about the Great Race and the devastating power of the stone, the Heart of Arcania.

  He looked surprised at the mention of the stone.

  I kept a straight face as I moved on to the high priests and told him that they were really necromancers, and that they were responsible for the black blight.

  I wasn’t sure if the witch king was really hearing what I was saying because he kept staring at me with that same dreamlike expression. It made my skin crawl.

  “Which is why we’ve come to ask for your help,” I finished. “If we don’t stop the priests, there’ll be nothing left of Arcania. I’ve seen what they’re capable of, how their black magic infects people and the land. It affects every living thing. They’ll spread their evil, their blackness until there is nothing but ash and death. Fight magic with magic, the high witch Ada said to me.”

  I saw a flicker of anger in the king’s eyes at the mention of her name, but I continued, “… which is why it’s essential that we have an abundance of magic. We need an army of witches to help us defeat the necromancer priests.”

  “Is that so?” said the witch king, but I had the feeling he wasn’t listening, or that he didn’t care.

  “In my court for only a few minutes and already making demands.”

  I glanced nervously at Fawkes, but he was looking at the king. My stomach clenched. I didn’t doubt that the merciless witch king could have had me burned on the spot just for talking out of line. But he hadn’t killed me yet.

  “Necromancers,” said the witch king, “are a thing of the past. There haven’t been any necromancers for hundreds of years. They were destroyed long before humans came to Arcania.”

  “Maybe so,” I said. “But now they’re back.”

  The witch king was silent for a while. “This stone, this Heart of Arcania,” said the witch king. “For what purpose is it sought?”

  “I was told that the stone had awakened, and that it was some sort of conduit for magic. If the stone was used by a dark force, like the necromancers, then it would magnify their powers so they could unmake or remake the worlds. It could also open doorways to other dimensions.”

  “Magic stones are unpredictable.” The witch king watched me without expression. “They yield wild, untamable magic. Smaller stones are more easily manipulated than big ones. The power of a stone the size of the Heart of Arcania would be limitless.”

  His dark eyes flashed. “What is your purpose in all this? With the stone?”

  I shifted my weight. “Once we regain the stone from the priests, we will destroy it or return it to its dormant state.”

  “What a shame to waste such power.”

  He studied me thoughtfully. “A steel maiden again in my court, I would never have believed it.”

  I looked unflinchingly into his eyes and said in my most controlled voice, “Will you help us?”

  The witch king smiled at me. Then he turned on his heel, his long hair trailing behind him like waves, climbed the dais, and sat back down on his throne.

  I could feel the witch queen’s eyes on me, but I forced myself to look at the king. I couldn’t falter now. I had to be strong.

  “Will you help us, witch king?” I repeated again, my throat tight.

  The king watched me for a moment.

  “I care nothing for what happens in Arcania. I would consider it a favor if all the humans died. If these so-called priests were capable of such magic, why would I want stop them?”

  I frowned at his blatant disregard for human life, and I thought of Jon, and Rose, and all the lives of those we came here to protect, our families
and loved ones.

  “But the black blight will reach Witchdom,” I countered.

  My voice rose, and I addressed the entire Coven Council.

  “The necromancer priests will not stop at the borders of our world. They will come for Witchdom. They will come for us all, witch or human, it won’t matter. You must see that. Those who seek power will never stop wanting more until they’ve conquered everything.”

  I felt that I’d overstepped my boundaries and stopped speaking.

  The members of the Coven Council huddled in deep conversation.

  The king smiled, but his eyes stayed cold. “I admire your boldness, Elena. Your mother had it, too, and I always found it rather charming.”

  I could see that the queen was grimacing, and her swollen lips looked like they were about to burst.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of relationship my mother had had with this king. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it was the reason she’d fled Witchdom. It had to be.

  But why? What had happened between them? I could tell that the witch king had loved my mother. It was obvious in his eyes. The witch king had loved her, and still she’d left.

  But the witch queen’s violet eyes haunted me. And if my mother and this king had had an affair, it would have been recently. That would explain the hate in the witch queen’s eyes. The hate she felt for my mother was now directed at me.

  “Witchdom is well protected from humans and from magic,” continued the witch king. “These priests will die before they enter my world. There are far worse things than mere familiars that patrol our borders. There is old magic there that cannot be undone, magic that was here before the arrival of the humans.”

  I couldn’t help but notice how he said my world like he owned Witchdom. Maybe he did. My face burned with anger, and I felt myself losing control.

  “Please, will you help us?”

  The king frowned at my lack of formality and for forgetting my place once again.

  “Will you help us, witch king?”

  I was not about to beg. King or not, I still had my pride, but if it meant losing Jon…

  “No, I will not.”

  It took a few moments, a few breaths, to register what had just happened. My heart felt as if he had stabbed it, as though he had killed the ones I held dear there.

  “I can see this displeases you,” said the witch king.

  His gaze raked over me again, and I felt myself go numb with disgust. He didn’t care.

  I felt Fawkes’ eyes burning a hole in the side of my temple. The men shifted nervously behind me. I couldn’t look at them and see the despair that mirrored my own. We had come all this way, lost our friends, and it was all for nothing.

  My rage returned as bright as fire in my eyes, and I blinked back the tears.

  “But—but you must. You have to help. We came all this way,” I urged, straining to find a good argument, but I found nothing.

  I had been foolish to think a king would listen to me…me, a skinny, wretched young woman from the Pit. Of course he wouldn’t. I had been a fool.

  I could almost feel the witches in the chamber closing in on us, as though they couldn’t wait to get their fingers on us and rip us apart limb for limb.

  If he wouldn’t help us, what were the odds he’d let us go?

  I could see the same fear haunted Fawkes, but I could see rage in his eyes as well. Whatever happened now, I knew Fawkes would fight for us. It was too late for regrets. I let out a shaky breath and braced myself for what was coming.

  I felt the witch queen watching me.

  The witch king leaned back into his human-hide throne.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” said the witch king.

  “If you stay here and train as a steel maiden, if you prove to me and to my court that you really are the last steel maiden, you can have your army.”

  I didn’t have to look at Fawkes to sense his skepticism.

  “Elena, don’t,” he whispered so that only I could hear. “You don’t know him like I do…you don’t know what he’ll do…what he’s capable of.”

  “What choice do I have,” I whispered back. “If there’s a slight chance he will help us, I have to take it. You know I have to. It’s not like I have any other choice. Unless you know of another way to get an army of witches?”

  I took his silence as a no.

  The way the witch king looked at me made me realize that he wouldn’t let us go anyway, especially not the men. And I couldn’t let anything happen to them, not after they had come all this way with me.

  I took a deep breath. “And what about my friends?” I asked. “Will they remain safe with me for the duration of this training?”

  It was a long shot, but I could play this game too.

  The witch king looked at the men. And for a moment he said nothing.

  “I will let them live,” he said. “But if you do not pass the tests, if you do not prove to me that you are the last of the Steel Maiden clan—they will die. Just like you.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to keep my face blank. “What kind of tests?”

  The witch king smiled and bared his white teeth.

  “Witch trials,” he said as if he were tasting a fine wine. “You must pass tests that prove you are what you say you are, despite your disadvantage.”

  “And what disadvantage would that be?”

  “Your human blood.”

  The witches in the court sneered and laughed as the king continued, “That in itself is a liability. It remains to be seen if you can overcome it.”

  I tensed at his slight, and I bit back the cusses I wanted to shout at him.

  The witch king narrowed his eyes. “If you truly are a steel maiden, then prove it. Prove it, and you will have your army. Do we have an agreement?”

  I looked to Fawkes and saw grief and anger in his eyes. I glanced around the chamber, beyond the coven guards to the witches, and I saw indifference, disgust, and curiosity.

  Every soul in the chamber waited on me.

  I watched the king for a moment. My heart was beating as fast as it had during the fight with the familiars. He knew I was going to say yes. He knew he’d trapped me.

  “Fine, I’ll do your witch trials,” I answered.

  I heard the release of breaths behind me as the men relaxed a little.

  The witch king studied me intently, but his expression was stony and unreadable.

  “Very well, Elena. But let me warn you. If you’re caught trying to leave during the trials, if you attempt to escape me again,” he paused, and the witch queen’s pale face darkened.

  What the hell was the king talking about?

  “If you try to escape before the witch trials are over,” continued the king, unaware of the slip of his tongue, “I will kill you. And this time you will stay dead.”

  CHAPTER 19

  AFTER WE HAD BEEN disarmed, six of the coven guards led us down a large black granite hallway lit with fire sconces. Large paintings and tapestries adorned the walls. I peeked through long, thin windows at a red sky and a setting sun, and I could see a lake that mirrored the black fortress. But we were moving too quickly for me to really get my bearings.

  After about ten minutes of walking through a labyrinth of hallways, I was completely lost. There was no way to remember all the turns, the chambers, and the stairs that led to the floors above us. Every hallway looked exactly the same. And I hated it.

  The dread I felt made it hard to keep breathing, let alone keep moving. Every step felt heavy with foreboding. Every time I thought of Jon, tears welled in my eyes. Although I quickly blinked them away, they came so fast that I could feel myself losing control. I wanted to be alone somewhere so I could scream and cry. The thought of Jon’s warm body crushing mine nearly sent me to my knees. I needed him so badly. I felt so small in this endless stone abyss.

  But what life could I have if we didn’t defeat the priests? How could I save anyone locked away in this godforsaken fortress? And why di
d these trials scare the hell out of me?

  Deep down, I knew the trials were going to be really bad.

  I couldn’t stop sobbing quietly.

  Damn the witch king. Damn all these witches. Damn this bloody world.

  I couldn’t break down. I needed to be strong. I had at least to pretend I knew what I was doing. The men counted on me to get them out of here and to assemble an army of witches.

  It was clear that the king had probably subjected my mother to these trials, too. Whatever they had been, they had been bad enough to force her to flee to a land where she would be hunted and killed, and ironically, to a land where she had found love with a human and had me.

  “Are you all right?” inquired Fawkes. “You look like you’re having an argument with yourself.”

  “No, I’m not all right,” I snapped a little too loudly, and I regretted it immediately.

  Two of the coven guards turned to look at me, and I glowered at them. After they had given me a disgusted look, they turned around and kept walking. I wanted to brand their foreheads with a new symbol, SM, for steel maiden.

  I looked at Fawkes. “I’m as well as could be expected, I guess. Where are they taking us?”

  Fawkes looked straight ahead.

  “This part of the fortress is the west tower. It’s where they keep prisoners and punish the guilty. It’s the least favored part of the fortress. If I were to guess…I’d say we’re probably heading towards the dungeons.”

  “Of course, the dungeons,” I growled. “Well, as honored guests, I thought we’d get the best suites in this stone palace. But we probably smell like we belong in the bowels of the fortress, don’t we? What I’d do for a bath.”

  I managed to get a smile from Fawkes.

  I felt so conflicted. “I’m sorry, Fawkes.”

  He frowned. “For what?”

  “For dragging you down with us.” I sighed. “From what the witch king said, I gather that you had left his court because of something that happened in your past. And here I am, dragging you back for a nice stay in the bloody dungeons.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince the king. And I also knew what I was risking coming back here. I have a long history with the witch king. But the witch I knew then has changed. His soul has been poisoned and twisted by hate and the lust for power. There’s still a chance that he might come around. If not, there are others who can help.”