Witch Queen

by Kim Richardson

The king’s voice cut through us like a blade. The witches all froze in mid-step.

  I looked up to the royal box.

  The delight in the witch king’s cold, appraising gaze made me squirm. The witch king stood.

  “I’ve seen enough for today.” His voice boomed around the arena, and only then did I realize how still the spectators were and how much I hated them all.

  I held the king’s gaze fiercely. The arena was silent.

  “Given the disadvantages of your human blood,” said the king, “I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive these first three trials.”

  The witch queen’s face paled, and her eyes flashed with anger. She regarded me with disgust. I probably deserved her disdain after what I’d just done, and I probably looked dreadful, but I didn’t care what either of them thought of me. It didn’t matter what any of them thought. I hated them all.

  “Go and rest,” said the witch king. He looked delighted. “We shall reconvene the trials tomorrow.”

  And just like that, two coven guards grabbed me from behind and heaved me out of the arena.

  CHAPTER 25

  I WAS BRUISED, EXHAUSTED, and I hurt all over—but I was alive and a step closer to saving Jon.

  After Celeste had helped me bathe and change into a new shift, I limped over to a chair and let myself fall into it. I closed my eyes and let her brush my wet hair.

  I hardly touched my evening meal of roasted lamb, potatoes, meat pie, bread, grapes, apples, and a variety of cheeses. A decanter of dark burgundy liquid sat next to the food, and I had three hefty glasses full. The wine was divine, and even in my ignorance of drink, I knew it was high quality. I had only tasted wine like it once before, when the late prince of Anglia had given me some. But I only drank the wine once Celeste had promised me that the untouched food would go to the men.

  I was still angry about today’s witch trials. Despite the disadvantage of my human heritage, I had passed the first three trials. Nothing would stop me from accomplishing my goal now. I could feel it. After tomorrow’s trials we’d be free to go back to Anglia with a troop of witch warriors.

  I shifted to try and find a comfortable position, but everything hurt. So changing positions didn’t help. My healing magic wasn’t working as fast as I thought it would, or at least as fast as I thought it should. And I couldn’t help but feel that something was off, as though something was preventing my body from healing. Maybe it was because the trial witches’ magic was more powerful than the magic I had encountered before, or maybe it was because so much of it hit me at once.

  Ultimately, I would need a few days for my body to heal properly. But I knew that wouldn’t happen. Tomorrow was already upon me, and I still felt like I needed a week to recover.

  If Celeste had questions about what had happened last night with Prince Aurion, she didn’t ask me, and I was grateful. Not that there was anything significant to tell anyway. It was just a very strange visit, and I still couldn’t figure the prince out.

  “You did well today,” said the witch maid, as though she had sensed my mood. “For an inexperienced witch, I’d say you did remarkably well. Exceptionally well, really. It would take a witch of exceptional skill to outmatch that dreadful lot. And you did. You should be very proud.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished much. I get the feeling that tomorrow will be far worse than today…and I barely made it back alive. What if I don’t—”

  But I couldn’t finish my words because to say them might make them true. Instead, I turned my head and looked into Celeste’s face.

  “You came to see the trials?”

  Celeste let out a soft laugh. “Of course I did. Every servant in the fortress came to see Elena of the Steel Maiden clan.”

  She set the brush down and began to braid my hair. “We had to sneak out during our duties, but I saw your last trial…”

  She was silent for a moment and I was not sure why. Then she continued, “You need to have faith in the Goddess. She has something planned for all of us, but I know she has something grand planned for you. I can feel it.”

  “I wish I had your optimism.” I took another sip of wine, sloshed it around in my mouth and let it seep slowly down my throat. I could taste the grapes and a hint of the rich sweet chocolate that we never had a chance to taste in the Pit.

  “I’m exhausted, more than usual. And my body feels…broken,” I said. “Like my blood magic can’t keep up with the damage the trial witches caused. I won’t be healed by tomorrow. And I have a feeling the last two trials are going to be the worst.”

  “I have something for you,” she said when she had tied a string of thin leather around the end of my braid. She picked up a small container filled with a tawny liquid. “One of my special brews. I made it especially for you. It won’t heal you completely, but it should help your blood magic heal faster.”

  I took the vial from her and smelled it. “It smells like dirt.”

  “And it probably tastes like it, too. But I promise you’ll feel better once you drink it…all of it.”

  I tipped the vial to my lips and emptied it. “It does taste like dirt. And pee.”

  Celeste laughed, and it warmed my heart.

  As the disgusting contents traveled down my throat, I gasped as a rush of energy coursed through me, like an adrenaline rush, but ten times stronger. As the feeling dissipated, I was left feeling lighter, but I was energized and practically pain free. I could still feel a few bruises here and there, but most of the pain was gone.

  My eyes widened in surprise, and I jumped to my feet. “Holy hell! How is this possible? What is this?”

  I settled the vial back on the table, and the witch maid beamed and raised a brow.

  “I told you I was rather good at potions,” her eyes flashed.

  “Good?” I teased, “You’re better than good. You’re a bloody miracle worker.”

  I didn’t know how she had managed to make a liquid that tasted like dirt heal me, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that my body was in great shape for tomorrow. I sat back down and took a gulp of my wine to wash out the muddy taste in my mouth.

  “Celeste?” I asked.

  “Yes, Mistress Elena.”

  “Elena.”

  Celeste cocked her head. “I thought that’s what I said.”

  “No, just Elena. I’m not a mistress of anything, and it doesn’t feel right. Just call me Elena.”

  Celeste was quiet for a moment. “Well, perhaps just in these chambers, Elena.”

  “Why does the witch king give me such fine wine and food?” I asked. “Why doesn’t he just let me starve. That way I would certainly loose, and he’d be rid of me.”

  “Because these trials are held in the highest esteem amongst witches,” she said.

  She secreted the empty miracle vial into a pocket inside her gown.

  “Having you mistreated would be most dishonorable, and it would reflect badly on the king. It’s tradition, you see. Every witch presented at the witch trials is entitled to the king’s comfort and must be treated like a guest.”

  I spat a little wine. “A guest?”

  I laughed, but then my mood changed abruptly.

  “I just want to go home and make things right again…to save Jon.”

  There I’d said it.

  Celeste dabbed some cream onto her hands and began to rub it into mine.

  “Is Jon your lover?”

  The hint of a smile on her face caused me to smile back, but I couldn’t answer.

  “He must be a fine young man to win your heart,” she said with a grin.

  “He is,” I said finally. “He is the finest sort of man. The best.”

  Tears rose in my eyes, probably too quickly because of the damn wine. I wiped my eyes.

  “Do you have someone in your life?” I asked, trying to change the subject so that I didn’t break down in front of her. “Someone special.”

  Celeste’s expression changed into something
hard.

  “I did.” She swallowed. “He’s dead now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled hastily, “it was stupid of me to ask. It’s not my business.”

  Celeste squeezed my hands. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t want to.”

  And although I was curious to know what had happened to him, I didn’t press her to tell me.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Celeste and I stared at each other for a moment before she broke the awkward silence.

  “Another visitor, Elena?” Her eyebrows rose, and she grinned.

  I could feel the flush rising from my chest to my neck. The witch prince was not someone I wished to see, especially not after the day I had. What the hell was his problem anyway?

  “I thought I’d made it clear that I wasn’t interested.”

  Celeste lowered her voice. “I don’t think the witch prince is accustomed to being disappointed.”

  “Too bad for his royal ass. Don’t let him in.”

  Celeste’s eyes widened with fear. “I’m afraid I cannot do that. I serve the royal family first. I must let him in or lose my place.”

  I let out an exasperated breath and prayed he had on more clothes than last night. Goddess help me.

  “Fine. Let the beast in.”

  With a clenched jaw, I watched as the witch maid strolled across the room to unlock and open the door. As soon as the door swung open, Celeste bent over in a low curtsy, but not for a half-naked prince.

  The witch queen came in.

  CHAPTER 26

  THE WITCH QUEEN FLOATED into my bedchamber. Her diamond-beaded gown was spun from black Witchdom silk and decorated with enough jewels to feed an entire nation. Her red hair was piled up on her head like a three-foot pyramid and inlaid with sparkling jewels. It was a wonder she could keep her head straight with the weight. Her jeweled corset pinched her waist unnaturally thin and pushed up her generous bosom until it practically brushed up against her chin. The bottom of her skirt was embellished with rubies fashioned into the shapes of hands.

  I knew her attire and her jewels were meant to intimidate a poor half-breed wench like me, but I never cared for fancy gowns or jewelry unless I could steal them and sell them. I always found it stupid that anyone would pay so much coin for sparkling rocks when the money could be better spent feeding the poor, aiding orphan children, and building a better world.

  But as she flounced around the room affecting graces that she did not possess, she looked more grotesque than threatening or beautiful. She was like a caricature drawn by the local artists from the Soul City market. She had too much rouge smeared on her fat lips, and so much black kohl around her eyes and eyebrows that she looked like a court jester.

  And yet there was something in those cold, violet eyes that was terrifying.

  She was accompanied by a female witch who wore a tight black leather outfit under a long leather cloak. Two red hands decorated each of her breasts, and her dark hair was styled into hundreds of tiny beaded braids. While a magecraft hung from her neck, it was her hands that were most arresting. Her twisted ten-inch fingernails looked like gleaming claws.

  I balled my hands into fists and waited for the witches to settle into the room. I half expected the roof to open up and magic to stream in and kill me. But nothing happened.

  “Leave us,” the witch queen ordered.

  Celeste disappeared through the door without another glance my way.

  I remained seated and did not bow and scrape at the witch queen’s feet. I got up slowly. She didn’t like me, and I didn’t like her, so why pretend.

  “What brings you here, witch queen?” I asked. “Prince Aurion and Fawkes told me that nobody visited this part of the fortress.”

  “Yes,” said the witch queen, “what brings me here of all places?”

  She turned to face me with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “You, of course.”

  Her eyes rolled over me slowly.

  “No shape, no breasts. One might even mistake you for a male, with such a stick-like figure. Skin and bones. Nothing more than a human peasant with no social graces. Certainly no witch. You’re nothing but a disgraceful, human whore.”

  My temper flared, but I kept my face even.

  Why was she here? What did she want if not to sabotage me in some way?

  I looked to the bed where I’d thrown my weapons.

  The witch queen saw what I was looking at. She raised a dark penciled eyebrow.

  “You won’t need those. If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

  She smiled and her escort snorted.

  I fought to remain still and to keep myself from shaking under her icy stare. But there was something else in her eyes that I didn’t understand. It was as if she was haunted by some primal anger that was yet to be unleashed. Whatever she felt towards me was beyond hate.

  I swallowed hard and angled my body towards the door in case I needed to escape really fast. I could feel my sweat drip between my breasts.

  “Elena, a half-breed from Anglia who claims to be a steel maiden…what a ridiculous notion.”

  The witch queen moved across the bedchamber and then stopped. Her pendant flared, and with a snap of her fingers, the dresser rose, hovered for a moment, and then sailed across the room towards me, nicked my right shoulder, and smashed into the wall.

  So this was her show of strength. There was no doubt in my mind that the witch queen could and would kill me if she were given the chance.

  Was this her chance?

  Celeste had said that if I were mistreated it would reflect badly on the king. I was sure the witch queen knew this, too. I suspected that she just didn’t care.

  “I hate half-breeds,” spat the queen. “Races should never mix. It diminishes the line, the blood magic, and the power. Your mother created a monster when she had you.”

  “What do you know of my mother?” I asked churlishly.

  The queen’s expression turned sour.

  “If you want to keep your tongue for the duration of your stay—which will not be for very much longer—you will address me as witch queen.”

  I wanted to tell her off with a million cuss words from the Pit, but I knew she was just waiting for an excuse to kill me. There was too much on the line for me to take any unnecessary risks.

  “I apologize, witch queen,” I said. My voice was steady, and I held my ground.

  “A steel maiden, you say?” Her expression darkened. “You’re nothing but a human bastard, a mistake that needs to be rectified.”

  The queen continued to inspect the room with an expression that conveyed her distaste for the quality of the furnishings. She looked as if it pained her to be here at all.

  I wished she would leave. I wished they would both leave, but I knew they wouldn’t. Not until they got what they came for. Me.

  The witch queen put her hands on her hips.

  “I’ve never understood the king’s fascination with the steel maidens,” she laughed. “He’s been fascinated for years, for generations…but why? So what if they can handle a sword better than a male? What is that compared with real dark and terrifying power?”

  Her magecraft flared with yellow power, and I cringed.

  “The steel maidens were a useless coven anyway,” mocked the queen as she stood right in front of me.

  “It’s no wonder they thinned out over time and disappeared. And we certainly don’t need them anymore. The Dark Witches clan controls the true power. All the powers of the other witches originated with us…from the Dark Witches.”

  She might be a witch, but she sounded just like a priest.

  I noticed then that the door had been left open. I wished the prince would show up, anything would be better than this bitch.

  “Despite whatever promises the witch king might have made to you,” said the queen, “steel maidens don’t belong here. They never have. You’ve always been the lesser coven, the ones without real magic.”

&nbs
p; She looked away for a moment, and then she added, more to herself than to me, “There’s only room for one.”

  I looked at the witch queen’s accomplice to see if I could get a clue about what she had just said, but her scowl revealed nothing.

  The witch queen turned back to me.

  “You are nothing but a new toy for the king to play with until he gets bored. Then he will forget that you even exist.”

  Her harsh expression changed, and something like pain settled in its place. I had the unnerving feeling that she was referring to herself.

  “Soon the witch king will lose interest in you,” continued the queen. “He always does. You are no threat to me.”

  “If I’m not a threat, as you say, then why are you even here?” I half laughed.

  The queen’s face flushed red, and her eyes widened until I could see all the whites surrounding her irises.

  “Tomorrow, you make sure to lose,” she ordered. “You will not defeat the last two witches. Even if you feel you can win, you must make sure that you fail the last two trials.”

  I frowned.

  “What? Why? I don’t want to lose. If I can defeat the remaining trials, I will. Everything I hold dear depends on—”

  “You make sure you lose,” hissed the queen impatiently. “I’m ordering you not to defeat the remaining witches tomorrow.”

  My face burned with anger. “No. I won’t do it. Why should I listen to your orders?”

  I didn’t understand why this was so important to her. Why should she care if I finished the trials and led a small army back to my world? What did that have to do with her?

  Her eyes blazed with hatred, and for a moment I was sure she was going to turn me into dust.

  “I know you’ve been feeding the humans,” said the witch queen. “That’s right. Nothing goes on in my home without my knowledge.”

  My heart leapt to my throat, and a wave of nausea hit me. Damn her. Goddess help my friends.

  The witch queen beamed at the fear on my face, a small victory.

  “Bring him in,” she ordered.

  I heard a low cry from just outside the bedchamber, and then Leo pitched into the room.