The Queen of Sorrow

by Sarah Beth Durst

  The water spirit froze.

  And died.

  Queen Xiya of Elhim never knew it had come.

  One day, her daughter would find the little spirit’s body and think it was quite beautiful. She’d bring it inside to admire, and she’d discover the message. But that would not happen for an entire year.

  The third spirit, an air spirit, journeyed south, toward the islands of Belene.

  It was shaped like a sparrow, but with knife-sharp metal feathers. It had been the hardest spirit of the three for Queen Daleina to command, but once the order was imprinted, the spirit was determined to reach the ocean queen as quickly as possible.

  It flew straight south, defying the air currents, without wavering its course. When it reached the southern border of Aratay, it did not slow. It shot into the ocean air and soared high above the water.

  Below, the ocean roiled as if it were fighting with itself. The sky was a bruise of swirling purple, blue, and black. The closer the spirit flew to the islands, the wilder the winds and water became. The sparrow spirit felt the spirits of Belene: wild with rage, and the spirit’s own rage rose up to meet it—

  But the queen of Aratay’s command still rang through the little sparrow spirit.

  It kept flying.

  The islands lay ahead, jewels encircled by raging sea. The air spirit of Aratay saw several water spirits of Belene hurl themselves at the islands’ shores. These ocean spirits were massive, with hundreds of tentacles and bodies as large as the islands. They looked like mountains rising out of the sea. Other spirits within the sea responded to them, forming axes and swords of water to pound against the monsters, keeping them back—spirits were fighting spirits.

  As the air spirit flew, it saw a funnel of water rise from the middle of the chaos. The waterspout stretched and warped, and then it bore down on one of the islands.

  The island was built out of the bones of spirits: a turtle shell as large as a city, a rib cage of a sea monster, a chain of vertebrae from a sea serpent. Grasses and palm trees grew on top of the bones, and between them were clusters of villages with homes decorated with shells. The streets were paved with mother-of-pearl, and the humans were screaming and running through them.

  The spirit thought that was amusing.

  The waterspout continued its path toward the island, and the sparrow spirit shot ahead of it, faster than the spout was. It flew through the highest window of a spiral-shaped tower, where it sensed Queen Asana of Belene stood.

  She was peering through a telescope at the waterspout. Her braids were unraveled, and her crown of shells was lopsided on her head. She was bleeding from a gash on one shoulder.

  The air spirit thought that after it delivered its message, perhaps it would help the waterspout and make the foreign queen bleed more.

  “What’s this?” Queen Asana asked. Dropping to her knees, she untied the message from around the air spirit’s leg and read it. “The queen of Aratay asks for an heir, if we can spare one.” She made a sound that was half like a laugh and half like a choking gasp.

  The sparrow spirit didn’t see the humor, though it thought if the waterspout tore through the city, that would be amusing. Straining to peer out the window, it tried to watch both the queen and the battle on the sea.

  Standing, Queen Asana wrote a message on the back of the note. She finished and retied it around the air spirit’s leg. “Please tell her to send us help,” she said to the spirit.

  The little spirit felt a churning inside. The call of the vengeful ocean spirits was strong and growing stronger. It tasted saliva filling its mouth, wanting blood. It stared fixedly at the gash on the queen’s shoulder.

  Queen Asana closed her eyes for a moment, and the spirit felt a command sink in: Return home. “I’m deeply sorry, but your queen is on her own.”

  She then released the air spirit.

  With its new order, the spirit flew out the window. But the waterspout called to it, and the rage of the sea was too strong. It joined with the ocean spirits, forgetting its mission, and attacked the islands.

  Chapter 20

  Daleina felt the loss of the three spirits. First one, then the other, then a few days later the third. She didn’t know if they’d died or if her order had failed to hold them at such a distance, but each loss felt like a jab.

  Somewhere in Aratay, she knew a bit of the land died.

  She sent other spirits to heal it, as best they could. But they were already stretched thin. There were so many barren patches now, and her spirits were still sluggish to respond to her commands—even with Queen Naelin gone from Aratay, they hadn’t yet shaken the aftereffects of her emotional hurricane.

  She felt a headache form.

  I need a new idea. Her people had to be kept safe. Presiding over the Council of Champions, she didn’t tell them that she’d tried to reach out to other queens, or that she’d failed. Instead she focused on their reports on the progress of their candidates.

  Champion Boden had the floor. An older man with a thick white mustache and a booming voice, he’d been droning on for a while. “. . . preparations for devastation. I’m proposing that heir training include a rotation of guard duty of the emergency winter stores. Furthermore—”

  Sensing a spirit approaching, Daleina straightened and held up one hand to silence the champions. The spirit was flying fast toward the top of the tower, and she felt its urgency. News from the north? Please let it be good! “One moment, and then we will continue.”

  She crossed to the edge of the chamber, beneath an archway. Golden leaves curled around the vines above her, and she felt as if she were wearing a second crown.

  The spirit came into view: a white deer with wings, one of the air spirits of Aratay. It had feathers instead of fur, and she felt the imprint of Naelin’s thoughts in its mind. It did bear a message. She was right.

  Landing, its hooves echoed on the chamber floor, and all the champions watched, tense. Daleina stroked the feathers on its neck. You’ve had a long flight. Thank you for flying so far and fast. Only a strong spirit could have done that.

  It preened at the compliment.

  May I have the message?

  The white deer didn’t carry any note—Naelin was powerful enough that she could imprint her message in the spirit’s mind, which was incredible. It made Daleina feel weak in comparison, especially in the aftermath of losing the three spirits she’d sent. Reaching for the deer’s thoughts, Daleina heard the message as if Naelin were speaking right next to her. Her voice in the deer’s memory was only a little distorted, as if she were talking underwater or through a windstorm. “Queen Daleina, I have reached an agreement with Queen Merecot. I will be relinquishing control of the spirits of Aratay and tying myself to the excess spirits of Semo, then bringing them to the barren areas to bond with the land. Ambassador Hanna says to tell you it was her idea. And Ven says to tell you not to worry, I’m not stupidly reckless. His words, not mine, though I believe he’s right.

  “The transfer of spirits will begin in the morning. Be ready.”

  Daleina withdrew her hand from the deer spirit’s neck. Her heart was fluttering fast, and she knew every champion was watching her to gauge her reaction. Keeping her voice calm, she said, “Thank you for delivering this message. You may leave.”

  Wings outstretched, the feathered deer ran across the chamber and took flight.

  After its departure, Daleina turned to her champions and wished she had a chance to process her reaction. Concisely, she summarized the content of Naelin’s message, and then let the waves of shock flow over her as the champions reacted in their usual overly loud manner. After all Daleina had been through, the sound of the champions arguing didn’t shake her anymore. Raising her voice over them, she cut through their debate. “Queen Naelin has chosen to protect the people of Semo and the people of Aratay. By committing herself to this course of action, she prevents a future invasion by Queen Merecot, thus protecting two countries at once. The canopy singers will immortal
ize her choice and sing of it for generations to come. In the meantime, your mandate is unchanged: continue to seek out candidates and train them as quickly and as well as you can.” In case this all fails spectacularly. She then dismissed them. Except one. “Champion Havtru, if you please.”

  She waited until the others had filed out, down the winding stairs. Champion Havtru waited patiently on one knee. He then rose. “Your Majesty?”

  “You haven’t chosen a candidate yet.”

  “I, um, have been taking Champion Ven’s advice, taking my time to seek out the best possible candidate. I’ve been looking beyond Mittriel, and . . .”

  She waved his words away. “Since you aren’t currently training a candidate, I have a favor to ask: would you go north and bring home Ambassador Hanna? Queen Naelin may have decided to take on this risk—and if she thinks it’s the right thing to do, I’m not going to stop her.” She’s going to die, Daleina thought. She’ll be vulnerable in the moment she releases her spirits, and the spirits will kill her. Merecot won’t be able to stop them . . . if she even wants to. And then squelched the thought. Perhaps Naelin, Ven, and Hanna had reason to believe all would be well—Naelin seemed to think so, in her message. Still . . . “She has Champion Ven and Ambassador Hanna there to advise her, and if they believe this is the best course of action, then so be it. But after she has finished being noble and self-sacrificing, there will be no more purpose to Ambassador Hanna’s presence in Semo. I want her safely home, before Queen Merecot invents another disaster.”

  “Your Majesty, her guards would be better suited . . .”

  “She’s going to argue, and Champion Ven will likely defend her. He likes defending people. It’s his thing. So I need someone of equal rank to Ven to, well, shout him down if need be. A guard can’t do that. But you can. You will need an excuse so that Queen Merecot doesn’t see your arrival as an insult—I’d rather she didn’t know I don’t trust her—so please feel free to invent whatever lie suits you.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty.” Havtru bowed. “I’ll bring Ambassador Hanna safely home.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Champion Havtru. And if you could clobber some sense into Ven and get him to come home too, ideally with Queen Naelin and her children, I’d appreciate it.” She didn’t have much hope of that. Knowing Naelin, she’d leave when she was ready, not before, no matter whom Daleina sent. But I have to try.

  “You, um, forgive me, but . . . You don’t approve of Queen Naelin’s decision?”

  Daleina sighed. It was a brilliant idea that would save both the people of Aratay and Semo—she’d meant every word when she said that. It was selfless and brave and everything that Daleina admired. But it could easily get Queen Naelin killed. “I do,” she told Havtru. “It’s only that I’ll feel better once everyone’s home.”

  Havtru wished he hadn’t lied to the queen. But Champion Ven had been both specific and emphatic: Havtru was to keep his candidate secret and safe. And Cajara was worth keeping safe. He’d lucked into choosing a brilliant candidate, even if she herself didn’t know it yet.

  Hurrying through the palace, Havtru ran through a mental checklist of what he’d need to do and bring for his trip north. Bedrolls, skillet, soldier rations, bow and arrow so he wouldn’t have to eat soldier rations . . . and double everything, for Cajara. He hoped Ven would approve of the decision to bring her. It was a risk—Queen Merecot had been behind the assassination of heirs—but he also couldn’t afford to delay her training, or risk leaving her in Mittriel unprotected. At least in the north, he’d be with her.

  I have to bring her.

  It’s my responsibility to make sure she doesn’t die.

  Cajara trusted him, and she’d been abandoned so many times by people who were supposed to be her family that he wouldn’t even consider leaving her behind. His job was to strengthen her, not break her again.

  He rounded a corner and nearly plowed into a man who was waiting for him with outstretched hands. The man stumbled back but regained his balance as he cried, “Champion Havtru, a word! Please!”

  Havtru paused. The man looked familiar . . . “Have we met?”

  “Unlikely. I’m only a woodsman. Renet’s my name. But . . . you know my wife. Former wife. Future wife again, I hope, if she’ll have me. But even if she won’t . . . She’s the mother of my children. Please, Champion Havtru, I know you came from the Council of Champions. Has there been any word from Queen Naelin? Are my children . . . That is, I’ve heard rumors . . .”

  I do know him. Or who he is. Poor man. He thought of Queen Naelin’s plan to save the people of Semo and Aratay. How do I tell him his former wife is about to risk her life?

  “You have! Is she . . .” Renet’s voice cracked. He ran his fingers through his hair. He looked, Havtru thought, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.

  “I’m about to leave for Semo,” Havtru said. “If you’d like me to deliver a message to her, I can do that for you.”

  It was the least he could do.

  He thought of his own wife. What he wouldn’t give to send one last message to her!

  “Take me with you!” Renet cried.

  Havtru drew back. He couldn’t do that. He had specific orders, and they didn’t involve transporting civilians across the border. “I’m sorry, but—”

  “The rumors say my children are there, and she’s gone to save them,” Renet blurted out. “But she’s not going to come back. I know it. I know her. She thinks this is her final act, saving our children, and I can’t . . . I can’t lose her. My children can’t lose her.”

  Havtru hadn’t had children. He and his wife had talked about having them, but the time was never right. Wait a while longer, she’d say. After the next harvest, he’d say. Next season, she’d promise. One more year, he’d say. And then there was no more time. She was gone, taken from him in an instant by spirits who should never have attacked his village. He’d survived only because Champion Ven had arrived, and he’d survived after that only because Ven had given him a new purpose in life.

  But he’d never forgotten his old life.

  It occurred to him that regardless of the truth of any rumors, if he brought Renet, it would be a perfect excuse for his trip north. Queen Daleina didn’t want it known that she didn’t trust Queen Merecot, but if he was there escorting the queen’s husband to see his wife . . . “All right. You can come. But we leave tonight.”

  Renet blubbered his thanks.

  Havtru hoped he didn’t regret this.

  Chapter 21

  Ven did not like this plan.

  He strapped his armor into position, tightening it too far and then loosening it. Glaring at himself in the mirror, he thought, I won’t be able to protect her. No matter how many weapons he brought with him, how many blades he slid into his boots, how many bows he put in his quiver. He wasn’t to be allowed into the grove.

  “You’re angry,” Naelin said behind him.

  She was already dressed: a simple white gown and the crown of Aratay on her head. A servant had braided her hair into some complex knots that made Ven wonder how many blades he could hide within it. Sure, she had her power to protect her, but Merecot was powerful too. And in the moment when Naelin abdicated her hold on the spirits of Aratay, she would be at her most vulnerable. Merecot would have full control of all the spirits of Semo, and the two women would be alone in the grove, without him.

  I hate this.

  “I’m not angry at you,” he told her. “I’m angry at the spirit-damned tradition that keeps me from going in with you. You’d think in unusual circumstances tradition could be bent.” If the champions had accompanied the heirs on the day Daleina had been crowned . . .

  “Merecot has Erian and Llor, so she makes the rules. But in this case, it’s not just her rule. It’s the spirits—they view the grove as sacred. Only the queen and her heir may enter.” She held up a hand, stopping him before he could object. “I know you went with me to the Aratayian grove, but this is Semo
. Different grove, different spirits. Besides, I think it’s best not to agitate the spirits before I do this, don’t you? They’re already agitated enough.” She was speaking evenly and brightly, as if he were a child about to pitch a fit.

  “Stop that,” he told her.

  She furrowed her brow. “Stop what?” A hint of the anxiousness she had to be feeling crept into her voice. Good, he thought. She shouldn’t be calm about this. Alert and afraid was the best way to be. The best way to not die.

  “You can say what you want to me,” Ven said. “You don’t need to protect me by pretending to be all right.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I love that about you.” She flopped into a nearby chair, another carved stone monstrosity smothered in pillows.

  She loves me, he thought. This was the second time she’d said the word “love.” He realized he was grinning foolishly and tried to hide his smile within his beard. She’d said the words so casually, as if it were a matter of course, which made it feel even more true.

  “You can still back out of this. We can find another way. Rescue Erian and Llor, and flee.”

  “You say that like it would be easy. We’re outnumbered, on enemy territory, and Erian and Llor are guarded by her spirits—spirits I can’t control, not while Queen Merecot has her fist around them. Besides, I can’t abandon the people of Semo to their fate. Not to mention Aratay—if I don’t help, then Queen Merecot will go back to her delightful plan of assassination and invasion.”

  “All the more reason for you not to be alone in the grove with her.”

  Naelin closed her eyes and sighed. “If I die in there, promise me you’ll take Erian and Llor home. Bring them to Renet. He’ll look after them—he’s not as irresponsible as he used to be.”

  “I’ll take care of them myself, if you want me to.” Kneeling before her, he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. Her fingers curled around his.