by Brindi Quinn
The handmaid rushed to escape the situation. Windley, who had never entered my nest before, didn’t pause to look around. He came right up next to the side of my bed, hair changed since last I saw him from pink to midnight blue. Meanwhile, I really did look like a lion this time. A sweaty, messy lion.
I leaned away to shield myself from the light of his lantern. “What on earth are you doing here, Windley?”
“Merrin.” Windley dropped the formality of my title, something I had only ever heard him do once before. “I have something I need to tell you.”
There was something in the way he said it, a tone I had never heard from him before. It made the hair of my arms prick because my body knew that something unsightly was to follow. He was never this serious, never let anything worry him. My stomach knotted because it knew. My heart dropped because it knew. But my head didn’t quite catch up until Windley took a shaky breath and said:
“It’s Queen Beau. She’s missing.”
Chapter 4
The Missing Queen
Beau was missing. Beau. Was. Missing. Beau. Missing. Beau. My voice screamed in my head and my stomach felt laden with lava. But now was not the time to fall apart. It was the time to rally.
I was a queen. It was time to be a queen.
Cleaned up and changed, I joined Windley who was already debriefing Albie and Rafe in the throne room. The three guards spoke around the lapping fire as if to burn the words before they could reach prying ears.
Windley was in sorry shape, exhausted from riding through the forest all night and with slight cuts in his face where careless branches had scored him. Long gone was the jester’s smile he usually wore, and his playful eyes now bore heavy bags underneath. He was pacing a small perimeter around the lounge area like he couldn’t remember how to sit.
Meanwhile, Albie was in full knight’s attire, having been on patrol around the castle grounds. He clinked every time he shifted weight. Nerves as sturdy as his armor, he was attempting to calm our guest: “Take a breath, son, and start from the beginning.”
“There’s little else to say,” scoffed Windley. “A rogue broke into the castle and made off with our queen in the night. We have no leads and no queen. Care to let us borrow yours?” He shot me a shadowed glance from across the room.
I hugged my robe into myself as I joined them. “I’m confused on the timing. I received a letter from Beau just this afternoon, yet she went missing last night?”
“Likely a delay. The message birds can be unpredictable with their delivery,” Albie said before turning to Windley: “You’ve scouted the surrounding forest?”
“Of course we have. They’ve been at it all day.” Windley was testy, like a child up past his bedtime.
Albie forgave his tone. “Good. And what evidence is there that she was taken rather than leaving of her own accord?”
“Her window was smashed inward and her door was closed all night. If you’ve another idea, I’m all ears.”
“But Beau’s quarters are at the top of the castle!” I said. “Who could climb up that high?”
“There are ways.”
Surprisingly, that was Rafe.
Staring firmly into the fire, he was taking the news… unexpectedly. He was always quiet, sure, but rather than cool indifference, he looked as though he was trying hard to make his breaths even—like the flames could help him accomplish it if he fixated on them hard enough.
Strange, when he had never shown much interest in Beau or anyone else.
Besides, he expected us to believe that someone had scaled the entire castle, grabbed Beau and then descended back down while carrying an unwilling captive?
“My Queen?” Albie prompted.
Apparently, he had just asked me something, but it was hard to focus knowing that my dearest friend had been kidnapped by a thief in the night. It was even harder knowing that Beau had lost her echoes right before it happened. Were these events related? And did I have any right to tell the guards Beau’s secret? Would it help us find her sooner? Or simply send our queendoms into unnecessary disarray?
Weighing the consequences, I looked up to find Rafe watching me, same as the others, but there was something more to his expression—like he wanted to say something but was waiting for me to speak first, or like he was trying to tell me something using only his stare. But we didn’t have that sort of relationship, and I had no idea what he was thinking.
“What did you ask me, Albie?” I said because the wrinkled man had just cleared his throat again.
“I asked if there were any political matters we should be aware of,” said Windley, inspecting me. “Anything that could have caused someone to come after us. The other courts involve you more in outside matters than they do us.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We are and have always been protected territories. If Beau was taken, it wasn’t by someone from the civil world. None of the other queendoms would dare start anything with either of our courts. We’re too valuable.”
The three guards were motionless, waiting for me to continue. They wanted orders, specifics. And it was my duty to provide them.
“Of course, the Crag will offer the Clearing whatever resources they need to retrieve Beau. And we will keep it a secret from the citizens until we know more. Windley, I trust Rebella has temporarily taken the throne?”
Rebella, Beau’s cousin, was in some respects a queen’s understudy. Trained alongside Beau in her queenly duties from a young age, it was Rebella who watched over the Clearing whenever Beau traveled. She was a kind girl, a few years younger than Beau and me, and always eager to be included whenever I came to visit.
Windley nodded but wore a sour expression. He and Rebella had a strong disliking for one another. This was likely his fault more than hers. Windley had an adverse effect on most polite people.
Now, he was in a state unlike any I had ever seen him, stressed and winding a lock of his midnight hair. He kept setting his eyes on mine as if searching me for an answer. I reckoned we felt the same, like there was a deep hole inside our chests sucking the blood from our faces and the air from our lungs. Beau’s disappearance didn’t quite feel real. A small part of me thought I might still be asleep, sweating away in the middle of a bad dream. Did grief always feel this numb?
Later, I would realize it wasn’t grief, but shock. Grief would come eventually, and it would be much, much worse.
I was caught in thought again, letting the heat of the fire soak into my skin that felt otherwise lifeless. This time the guards didn’t disrupt me. They, too, were mulling everything over. Had Beau really been taken? She was home as recently as yesterday. She had even sent me that letter…
Wouldn’t you love to see the southern mountain someday?
“Hold on!” My realization echoed throughout the lofty hall, with little regard for prying ears. “Beau’s letter! I mean, I burned it, but I remember the exact wording! She said something weird! I BET she sent it after she was already taken!”
It was Rafe that reacted first. He took my shoulders with more conviction than I had ever seen him muster. “What is it, Your Majesty?”
“Beau referenced the ‘southern mountain’ in her letter.” My adrenaline throbbed over the thought of a clue. “We write in code, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. Are there even mountains in the south?”
“Not that I’ve ever heard,” said Albie, stroking at his white mustache. “What was the context?”
“Beau’s exact words were, ‘Wouldn’t you love to see the southern mountain someday?’”
“Aw hell.” This time, Windley was the one to chime up. “It’s beyond me why the Queen would ever want to go there, but I believe I know what it means.”
“Out of any of us, you would be the one to know,” said Albie.
Windley would be the one to know? Curious. Though we had been friends a long time, he wasn’t usually one to dig beneath the surface of conversation, and he certainly wasn’t one to give specifics about his past.
“I’m from… south-ish.” He frowned as though it cost him great effort to admit. “And there’s a particular area down there that people generally avoid. A place where giants once roamed. They died out long ago, but their bones remain, in a big pile out in the middle of nowhere.”
Ah. I had heard about that in one of Poppy’s stories. Separated from our world by a thick wood, it was called—
“Giant’s Necropolis?” said Albie.
Windley bobbed his head in agreement. “Outsiders call it that. It’s the only ‘mountain’ I know of in the south.”
“And the reason people avoid it?” said Albie.
“You mean besides the fact that it’s a mass grave for giants?” Windley took his chin in his hand like a scholar. “Inconsequential, really, but there seems to be one skeleton larger than all the others, strewn atop the rest of the pile. Supposedly, it’s still intact… and it changes position from time to time.”
“Definitely consequential,” I said. “Is it enchanted?”
“That or there’s something else out there large enough to move a giant’s carcass. I, for one, am not keen to find out,” he said.
Well if that wasn’t horrifying.
“Keen or not, I’m afraid Giant’s Necropolis is your best bet,” said Albie. “Sounds like you’ve got a lead.”
Windley sighed. “Evidently, but why did it have to be there?”
It was a challenge to stay composed through all this, knowing Beau had quite possibly been taken to a giant’s graveyard, of all things. My one saving grace was that logically, if someone meant to assassinate Beau, they would have done so in her room, rather than going through the trouble of taking her from the castle. I had to believe they wanted her alive for some purpose.
If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to keep my knees from buckling.
“You can’t leave tonight, Windley,” I snagged his hood as he turned to leave. “You won’t make it far in your state. Rest and leave first thing in the morning.” I took the filigree whistle out from beneath my robe that was used to summon the royal widowbirds. “I’ll send a message to Rebella to request backup from the Clearing’s cavalry.”
“He shouldn’t go alone,” said Rafe. “I’ll accompany him.”
“I expect you will,” I said, “as will Albie. I’ll need you both if I’m to travel a great distance.”
The blood paled from Albie’s wrinkled cheeks. “My Queen? Surely you don’t mean to come with! Please, leave this to the guards. The Crag needs you here.”
True, the Crag needed me. But so did Beau, and finding her was more important than anything else. Besides, Albie was overlooking something. Something I could do that no guard could.
You see, the filigree whistle around my neck wasn’t only a tool; it was a promise. Every court had one, passed down from queen to queen. Beau and I summoned the widowbirds almost daily, as had our mothers and our grandmothers, using them to send even the most trivial of messages to one another.
The creatures had strong ties to royal blood, Poppy said, because of a pact made long ago when the first castles were built. If Beau managed to send another, her bird would find me, wherever I was. Better to be in the thick of it with guards that could take action than to be shut away in a castle.
It could mean the difference between finding Beau alive and…
“I have made my decision and so I command it. Albie, make preparations for Lekhana to take the throne.” Like Beau, I also had a queen-in-waiting, though she was far too young to rule alone. “She will serve as figurehead with Mother Poppy as her regent. Saxon will take control of the royal guard in your absence, and we’ll split our cavalry between both realms so that neither is left unprotected. Understood?”
Albie swallowed his distaste for my decision before bowing his head. The look in his eye let me know this wasn’t over, though. He wouldn’t undermine me in front of the others; but alone, he always gave me his true thoughts.
I anticipated an ambush from him before dawn.
Windley respected the ruling, though I wasn’t technically his queen, and collapsed onto a lilac-patterned couch beside the fire. He had been holding it together for our sakes, but he now allowed his exhaustion to catch up with him. He pulled up his hood to cover his cuts and rolled over like a grumpy feline.
I covered him with a blanket as I walked past, and he caught my wrist without lifting his head. “Thanks, queenie.” He slid his hold sleepily down my palm and fingertips as I drew away.
All the while, Rafe was quiet, taking short breaths through his nose that flared his nostrils, almost as if he was annoyed we weren’t setting out tonight. But that was foolish. We would make better time with fresh bodies and the dawn sun to guide us.
I didn’t yet know just how many secrets the wavy-haired magician had hiding within his half-frozen heart.
Chapter 5
Frosted
We set off just as the morning sun began to paint the sky orange and pink. Ruckus was tired enough that he didn’t try to direct our course. Knowing him, it wouldn’t last long. The naughty stag had a tendency to become more squirrely as day stretched on.
Overhead, a lone widowbird crossed our path like a miniature dragon. Was this one of mine? Before setting off I had sent half a dozen into the world with coded messages for Beau. I wanted her to know that we were coming for her; if her captors intercepted one message, maybe the next would make it through. It might take a while, but I had faith that the birds would deliver. They always did.
Seeing one fly south was a good sign, too. It meant that we might be heading in the right direction. I clutched the filigree whistle around my neck and willed it to be so.
For once, Rafe didn’t stick to the back of the pack, instead taking lead through the Scarlet Wood, maneuvering skillfully through the flourish of crimson and gold and setting a path for the rest of us. I always assumed the magic-wielder only took his royal post for the benefits. Curious that he was becoming so invested now. Maybe he was one who thrived on a sense of emergency. Or maybe he was just glad to be out of the Crag.
In his place, Albie hung back, still disapproving of our mission—though he looked to be warming up.
As expected, the wrinkled guard had ambushed me in the dark of morning, questioning why I wanted to come with. When I explained my reasoning around the widowbirds, he further questioned why we couldn’t meet up with the Clearing’s cavalry and head south together, then. An entire army, he said, was more suitable for guarding one queen and rescuing a second. I argued that the cavalry would make better time without us and that we couldn’t afford to hold them back. If they managed to reach Beau first, all the better. If not, we would meet them in the southern wilds.
It was with great reluctance that Albie realized he wouldn’t be able to dissuade me. I wouldn’t say I was obstinate, but I wasn’t one to go back on my rule.
Okay, I was obstinate.
Through the morning, Windley kept pace at my side, his hair transitioning from midnight blue to subtle gray. Though the bags under his eyes had filled, his overall demeanor remained somewhat baggy. He sported a scarlet cloak typical of the Clearing, while my guards and I rode in emerald. I had never seen Windley under upset circumstances like this. I hadn’t realized he was capable of being grave.
“At least you’ve tamed that mane of yours for once, queen lion,” he said unexpectedly, after saying little else all morning.
I was surprised to hear a hint of his old self in his voice, but when I caught the lack of amusement in his eye, I realized it was likely for my sake. He was trying to take my mind off of Beau. I would offer him the same courtesy.
“That’s queen lioness, if you please.”
The corner of his mouth hinted at a smirk. There it was—a small gleam returning to his eye.
“We’re going to find her alive,” I told him. “Beau is clever and strong, and we have both undergone training on how to handle ourselves in hostage situations. She has more than a few tricks up her sleeve.”
“I wouldn’t be as worried if it were you, Merrin. I know you are capable, but Queen Beau…”
Again, he forgot my title. This time he caught himself.
“Shit.” He shook his gray hair, a slight hue to his neck. “Queen Merrin.”
“It’s fine, Windley. You know I don’t care.”
Actually, hearing him say my name without the title made my stomach feel a touch unsettled, but not in a bad way.
Neck still hued, Windley exposed his pointed teeth with a fuller smirk this time. “Sir Albie will kill me.”
There was no arguing that.
The Scarlet Wood was thick and vast, stretching miles in every direction around the Clearing. It was a more suitable path for us, though, than heading south along the coast directly from the Crag. The land there was without cover and heavily guarded to keep outsiders from wandering into our lands. We had fed the citizens and most of the palace staff a story about Beau and me going away to plan the lunar festival; thus, it would be unnatural for anyone to catch us on the road.
Our plan was to cut west into the Scarlet Wood before heading directly south. We would move out of the forest once a safe distance from both the Crag and Clearing.
I didn’t have many dealings with the south. There was only one queendom down there, the Queendom of the Cove, and they kept to themselves, mostly. Albie had sent a bird on ahead to let them know of our coming and to request lodging. He assured it wouldn’t be a problem, given the frequent shipment of curatives we sent them. Supposedly, the captain of the guard was an ‘old friend.’ Albie had a lot of those, having envoyed to all ten queendoms during his time in the royal guard.
Beyond the Cove’s realm stretched the end of the civil world, the queen-less lands. A wild place with uncharted terrain and unknown fiends that were fodder for many of Poppy’s stories. Even Albie had never ventured out there. Luckily, it seemed our less-than-human accomplice had.
Now that I had a taste, I intended to find out more about Windley’s origins. He looked mostly like a human male, with only remnants of something else mixed in. Maybe he was a quarter devil. I half expected to see a tail poking out from under his cloak.