Witch Queen

by Kim Richardson

  She said she had found it all in the trunk that she had dragged into my room.

  I rubbed my hands over the material. “What is this?”

  “Witchdom silk,” said Celeste as she pulled my hair into a long braid and wove gold and red ribbons into it. “… from our pillion butterflies. It’s the most durable material we have in Witchdom. It’s as soft as velvet but as resilient as leather.”

  I had seen this kind of material on some of the higher classed witches and the royal family.

  Celeste stepped back and smiled. Her eyes sparkled.

  “The true clan colors and garb of a steel maiden. Not those dreadful village linens you came here with. If you want to command respect as a steel maiden—then you better dress like one.”

  I looked at Celeste. “This is you, isn’t it?”

  She just blinked at me innocently, but a hint of rebelliousness flashed in her hazel eyes.

  “The witch king never asked for me to be fitted with these, did he?”

  “No, he didn’t,” she answered.

  I wasn't sure what she was up to.

  “Over the years I had heard stories that the previous steel maiden’s garments had been preserved somewhere within the fortress, so I went to find them. It turned out that the rumors were true. The outfit was in mint condition, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I aired them it out.”

  She stood and appraised me for a moment with her hands on her hips.

  “I think I’ve forgotten something.” Her eyes widened. “Of course!”

  She rummaged in the chest and pulled out a selection of leather straps and belts. She wrapped a baldric around my right shoulder and fitted me with five daggers: two for my weapons belt, two that I sheathed into my thigh bracers, and a bosom dagger that fitted perfectly in my leather brassiere. Finally she handed me a gleaming silver short sword.

  Her eyes flashed. “This is a witch blade. The true sword for a steel maiden.”

  I gripped the handle eagerly. The sword was light and well balanced. It felt strangely familiar to me, as though I had seen one just like it before, like I was meant to yield it. But that was impossible. The hilt of the sword formed a dragon’s head and wings, and the pommel formed the dragon’s tail. The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with red gemstones. The blade was etched with words written in Witchtongue and with images that depicted a steel maiden fighting a warrior.

  “I’m surprised they let you bring me weapons,” I said and sheathed my new sword at my waist.

  “They must not see you as a threat, now that the terms are agreed.” Celeste closed the trunk with her foot. “And they know you won’t leave without the humans. Besides, you’re going to need the weapons anyway, aren’t you?”

  I still felt naked. I was showing more of my flesh than I would ever normally do, and I was self-conscious that I was still painfully skinny. Celeste comforted me a little by letting me know that steel maidens wore the leather bodice over a shirt in colder weather.

  The weapons were not my own, but the familiar weight of them in my hand, the brush of steel, and the smell of iron brought a smile to my face. I was dressed for combat. I beamed despite my situation. I was going to kick some witch ass today. Finally, it was time to show off what I could do.

  I still didn’t understand why the witch maid was being so attentive.

  “Celeste, why are you helping me?”

  For a moment I thought she was going to reveal her true feelings, but she just smiled kindly.

  “For one thing because you call me by my real name. But mostly because I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider in this big old fortress. You’re going to need all the help you can get if you want to win your army. But also because we lesser witches need to stick together.”

  I shook my head and corrected her.

  “We’re not lesser witches. We’re different. It’s our uniqueness that makes us who we are, which makes us stronger and smarter than all the rest of those foolish witches combined.”

  She gave me a little smile, and I embraced her in a bear hug.

  “Thank you,” I whispered into her hair. “It means a lot to have a…”

  Friend, I wanted to say, but I didn’t know what she was to me, or what I was to her, not yet.

  “To have someone looking out for me.”

  Celeste wiggled out of my hug and I followed her out the door.

  The coven guards were waiting for me and escorted me to a grassy circle in an outdoor arena just outside the northern walls of the fortress.

  The fog lifted with the rising of the morning sun, and I looked around. The only other arena I’ve ever seen was back in Soul City where the temple guards had shown their strength by butchering slaves. It was much smaller than this one.

  I was in an immense bowl, and an audience of witches sat in tiers of stone benches and boxes separated by walkways. A royal box was right at the front. It was dripping with black silk marked with the red hand of the Dark Witches clan and was furnished with three plush chairs. All the royal witches had come to see me perform my first round of trials. I wasn’t surprised to see the witch king, but I wasn’t expecting his wife to be up this early, or Prince Aurion.

  The witch king wore a fine coat of Witchdom silk in his clan colors. He appeared surprised when he saw that I wore the colors of the Steel Maiden clan—my clan. I smiled at him, and he looked pleased, too pleased, and leaned back into his throne. The coven general stood behind his king and watched me with suspicious yellow eyes.

  The witch queen was an altogether different matter. She looked at me with contempt, and her violet eyes darkened even more when she inspected my newest attire and weapons. She wore a blood-red gown that was no doubt meant to intimidate me. It wrapped tightly around her upper body, and silk fell in layers around her hips and legs. Her red hair was braided into the delicate crown on her head, and her eyes burned with hatred for me.

  Although I was small and insignificant in the gargantuan arena, the steel maiden’s clothes and weapons made me feel powerful. I felt like a true warrior and not just some girl from the Pit.

  Thank you, Celeste, for being such a clever girl.

  She had known that these clothes would throw them off balance a little. The way I looked would help me play the part and give me confidence.

  The witch prince, Aurion, wasn’t looking at me. Unlike the others, he stared darkly at the floor, his attention elsewhere. He was dressed in a fitted sky-blue coat with a matching silk scarf pinned on his shoulder. His pale skin and gray hair sparkled. Even when he was bored, he was dashingly handsome.

  Crowds of witches made their way into the arena. They talked, embraced, and laughed like a party was about to begin. Some pointed at me and laughed. I don’t think they had much hope that I would survive whatever the witch king was about to throw at me.

  I looked away. I would not let these witches break my spirit. I lifted my head in defiance and put on my best display of bravado.

  I can do this.

  As I waited for my fate to unfold, I couldn’t help but notice the crowd of very beautiful female witches in the box next to Prince Aurion. A golden-haired witch in a black and red gown focused in silence on his face. Her breasts practically spilled out of her bodice as she attempted to get his attention. The other desperate witches flaunted themselves and batted their eyes at him, too. But the prince never looked up, not even once.

  But despite the prince’s indifference, the witches continued to flirt with him. The golden-haired witch swung her legs off the box and exposed her barely-there undergarments in such a pathetic attempt to get his attention that for a moment I forgot about the trials and smiled.

  I was glad that I was not weak or stupid, and that I hadn’t lost my pride. I’d rather have been poor and skinny, and to have smelled of sweat from a hard day’s work, than to have flaunted my sex at the royal prince like an expensive whore. It was painfully obvious that they wanted the attention of the prince for one reason alone—because they wanted to be
the next witch queen. I didn’t.

  Perhaps Prince Aurion knew it, too. Perhaps he just didn’t care.

  I searched the crowd for Fawkes. I recognized the bent and gnarled bodies of the Coven Council as they moved slowly to their seats, but no sign of Fawkes. My heart sank when I realized he wasn’t there.

  Why would he miss this? How could he miss this when it seemed that the entire realm of Witchdom had come to see me make a fool of myself?

  I needed Fawkes. He was like my anchor, and I felt lost without him.

  I tried to calm my nerves as more and more witches arrived in the arena. I knew they had come to see me fail. Despite the cool air, the sweat trickled down my back and between my breasts. My hands were moist, and I resisted the urge to wipe them on my leggings.

  I had a dreadful feeling of foreboding. What had I gotten myself into?

  If Rose had been here, she’d have told me I was a foolish and headstrong young woman for getting myself into this mess.

  But what choice did I have?

  I had to take the witch king’s deal—there was no other way.

  All eyes were on me. How long would I have to stand here like a fool?

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  I heard the screeching of iron, and a large door across the arena swung open. The crowd cheered and shouted, but I could see nothing and could only imagine what monsters would emerge. I don’t know why, but I looked at the prince, and this time our eyes met.

  His gray eyes were too wide, and even in the distance I could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped the edges of his chair.

  Three male and two female witches strolled into the arena through the iron gate. They were clad in the white, silver, green, purple, and black colors of each of the five clans. I couldn’t see any weapons on them as they approached me, only pendants hanging from their necks. I quickly realized that they were not strolling but gliding towards me. They were hovering a few inches off the ground like specters and demons from another realm.

  And there was nowhere for me to run.

  CHAPTER 23

  I TRIED DESPERATELY NOT to show any fear, but the witches sneered at me, and I knew they’d seen it on my face. Everyone in the goddamn arena could see I was terrified.

  The witches floated into position until they had surrounded me. Only then did they settle on the ground.

  After my initial shock of seeing people actually fly had worn off, I unsheathed my new sword and tried to calm my breathing. I sank low in a defensive stance and waited, wishing I had eyes in the back of my head. I could have taken on a few thugs at once, but never witches, and never this many. I would have to rely on my instinct.

  Their faces were streaked with red and black paint that reminded me of Fawkes’ painted face, but these marks were more sinister. They were clearly meant to look like blood and to terrorize me. They did.

  Adrenaline shot into my veins like strong liquor and shook my body awake. The witches regarded me with such predatory hunger that I felt as if I were a juicy roast, and they couldn’t wait to tear me apart with their teeth. They sneered with the cocky confidence of elite witch warriors who knew they had already defeated me. They had sworn their allegiance to the witch king and trained for battle since childhood. They should be confident.

  A female Elemental clan witch with short purple hair smiled at me. Her teeth had been filed down to sharp needles like those in the mouth of a fish. She was a head taller than me and just as skinny, but I didn’t let her lean frame fool me.

  The other witches grinned at me with decayed yellow teeth, and I turned around slowly to get a good look at my adversaries.

  A white witch with greasy black hair hissed at me like a snake while a purple clad witch from the Shifter clan rubbed his pendant gently as though he were stroking a cat. An Augur clan witch with a shaved head and a silver coat shifted on his feet, trembling with rage, while the dark witch with long ocean-blue hair that matched her eyes blew me a kiss.

  The witches all looked gaunt and tired as though something had worn them out. In an ordinary fight I would have rejoiced at their gaunt faces. But this was far from ordinary. They all had magecrafts around their necks to amplify their power.

  “Death to the steel maiden!” someone shouted from deep in the arena.

  “Kill the imposter!”

  “Abomination!”

  “Kill the half-breed!”

  Once the yelling had started, others quickly chimed in, until the jeers of the crowd were all I could hear over the thundering of my heart. I realized with a chill that everyone in the arena wanted to see me die an agonizing death.

  The king looked pleased with the noise and I feared I had been tricked.

  What if the witch trials weren’t trials at all? Had the witch king put me in front of this group of deluded witches only to see me die? Had he never intended to help? Had the witch king deceived me?

  I looked to Aurion, but he was looking at the king. I couldn’t make out his expression. I was overwhelmed with panic and fury. I had been a fool to agree to this. But it was too late. All I could do now was try to make it out alive.

  Goddess protect me.

  The crowd’s cheers rolled through the arena like madness.

  The witch king stood and raised his right hand, and the arena quieted down. He had silenced them as effectively as if he had cracked a whip.

  “Witches of Lunaris,” the witch king’s voice boomed out to the crowd. “You honor me and my family with your presence this glorious morning. I thank you. Today we honor tradition.”

  His voice echoed and he paused before he continued. “We honor the witch trials.”

  Though I tried my hardest to keep my eyes on the king, I couldn’t help glancing at Aurion. But his eyes were on a spot near his feet again, and his face was unreadable.

  “Elena of Anglia,” continued the witch king, and I was momentarily grateful that he didn’t mention that I was actually from the Pit, even though I needn’t have been ashamed. But the calm demeanor with which he spoke sent a chill racing down my spine.

  “You came here to Witchdom from the western world, claiming that you were the last of the steel maidens. We all know the last of that clan died years ago, childless. And yet you claim to be her daughter.”

  The crowd hissed and booed, and for a moment I thought they were going to send spells my way. But the disgust in their faces was enough, and the king looked satisfied with the noise.

  “I find that hard to believe,” the witch king’s voice echoed. “But now that you’ve claimed to be the daughter of the last steel maiden before me, witch king of Witchdom, your claim to our blood magic cannot be unmade.”

  The witch king paused and gave me a terrifying smile.

  “Now your claim to a share of our blood magic is on trial. It will be a trial for your life. You will be faced with five tests of strength and magic, one from each of the five clans. If you manage to survive all of the trials, your claim to be a steel maiden will be made legitimate. But if you’re lying, you will die.”

  I swallowed hard, but my eyes never wavered from the king.

  The witch king raised his arms and clapped his hands together once. The sound was like a crack of thunder and appeared to signify some tradition I didn’t understand.

  He smiled and raised his voice, “Let the witch trials begin!”

  The witch king returned to his seat by his wife. The witch queen drank from a goblet and smiled wickedly at me. Her husband looked over the arena lazily, as if my trials were some casual sporting event. His eyes showed the confident leer of a man who thought he had already won.

  I willed myself to stop shaking with rage and frustration. I had been the subject of ridicule and pity for too long, and I wouldn’t stand for it any longer. I’d had enough.

  I’d fight until I could no longer draw breath, until I saved Jon…

  The witches’ magecrafts flared with yellow magic. The earth groaned and vibrated under my feet, and I could feel the batter
ing of my heart. I stilled my mind and allowed my body to react on pure survival instinct.

  This trial had clearly been intended to showcase the splendor and strength of the king’s strongest witches. All the witches would see and fear his strength, and I would be the fool in the middle of it all.

  I heard the crowd cheer, but only faintly as I tuned them out and concentrated on my attackers.

  The elemental witch with the mouth of a fish leaped towards me. I slashed with my weapon, but she swirled with inhuman speed and my blade went wide.

  “And you call yourself a steel maiden?” the witch laughed coldly. “My grandmother can move faster than you, half-breed bitch.”

  The other witches didn’t move.

  The fish-faced witch bent her knees and spread her fingers widely with her palms facing down to the ground. Her pendant pulsed with yellow and red energy. And when she raised her arms over her head, a ball of fire danced between her fingers. She hurled it at me.

  I leapt to the side, but I wasn’t fast enough. The fireball caught me on my exposed flesh. I screamed as the smell of burnt flesh and hair mixed with the tang of moist earth and leaves rose up around me. Although it was painful, the magic was familiar, like Fawkes’ magic, except that his fire had never burned me.

  The magic fire spread along my skin until I felt it seep deeply into my organs. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t see, and I staggered and fell. My sword slipped from my grasp, and I was overcome by the pain.

  I heard laughter behind me, but I didn’t know whether it came from the crowd or from the other trial witches. My humiliation burned me as much as the witch’s magic had burned me. I was only seconds into my first trial, and I was already on the ground, defeated.