The Queen of Sorrow

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Humans, she pressed. Have you seen any? Have you seen a wolf? A great gray wolf?

  Instead of answering, it turned and galloped away. The flowers withered in its wake. The air smelled sour from the dying flowers. Naelin wrapped her mind around her own wild spirits—she felt them, frightened. They huddled together.

  How do I find them? Help me find them!

  “Protect me while I search,” Naelin told Ven.

  “Always.” He stood beside her, sword raised, while she sent her mind with the spirits, spreading out through the untamed lands. Split into hundreds of eyes, she swept across the constantly shifting landscape. She touched the minds of other spirits, briefly, felt their shock, their confusion, their anger, their hope.

  Hope?

  It reminded her of what she had felt from her own spirits, but she didn’t have time to consider it. She focused as her spirits searched the land. Dimly, beside her, she heard cries and shrieks and knew that Ven was fighting, but she kept pressing onward, searching, searching . . .

  She felt only spirits. Saw only the wildness.

  At last, she drew back, and she fell onto her knees, crushing the dead flowers. Beside her, Ven lowered his sword, and she saw a circle of spirits withdraw as her wild spirits flew back toward her.

  As the spirits of the untamed lands withdrew, she tried to think how next to search. She’d have to compel the spirits from here to help her, search their memories. It wouldn’t be easy, but . . .

  “Naelin.” Ven’s voice was soft, insistent.

  She looked up.

  Across the field of dead flowers stood a ragged child. Human, not spirit. A boy younger than Llor, with dirt smudging his cheeks and clothes that dangled around him. He stared at them for a moment, and then he ran.

  Chapter 27

  Hanna folded the paper and let her hands rest on her lap. She didn’t know how Merecot was going to react to this invitation. With suspicion, of course. The untrustworthy always saw deceit in others. Knowing Daleina, the offer is likely genuine. And will likely get her killed. Hanna didn’t know how Daleina had suffered through so much and still kept her idealism intact.

  Damn inconvenient.

  They’d managed the extraordinary here: siphoning away the excess spirits. Best to leave well enough alone and not invite trouble onto your doorstep. Hanna had already had the servants pack for her and her guards, and had been anticipating a pleasant trip home, without any more excitement.

  Briefly, Hanna considered pretending she hadn’t received the note. But that would be cowardly, and, more important, impossible, with Champion Havtru so proud that he’d been able to deliver it in person. He’d arrived shortly after dawn, with a man, a girl, and Queen Daleina’s sister.

  Staring out the window at the mountains, Hanna tented her fingers under her chin. It was a hostile kind of beautiful here, with mountains cutting the sky in every direction. The morning sky looked under attack by the peaks, and that thrilled her just a bit.

  “Ambassador Hanna?” Champion Havtru asked from behind her.

  He was a good boy. Earnest. Worked hard. He’d also, she realized, arrived here very quickly, if Daleina had indeed waited to send her message until after Queen Naelin had left. “You traveled here on foot, Champion Havtru?”

  “Yes, Madame Ambassador.”

  Interesting. “On foot from Mittriel? With the queen’s message?”

  “A spirit delivered it to me at the border, and then we hurried the rest of the way.”

  Aha, then he had been sent for another purpose. Maybe Daleina has a plan after all. Certainly she wouldn’t have risked her sister without a good reason. Hanna crooked her finger at him, to indicate he should come closer.

  He bent down.

  “Tell me your true purpose,” Hanna whispered.

  He whispered back, “To bring you home.”

  That was it? She didn’t know what she’d expected, but an escort was not it, considering she already had her guards. She wished Daleina were a better strategist, but Hanna had the strong sense that the crux of the queen’s plan was: invite Merecot and make friends again. “And you brought your candidate to assist?” She waved her hand at the young girl who stood a few paces behind him, next to a man dressed in brown who looked like he’d be more comfortable chopping wood than standing in a palace. The girl appeared to be about fourteen, no more than fifteen, with braided black hair and pale gray eyes. She hadn’t spoken since she’d arrived. The queen’s sister, Arin, stood protectively next to her.

  “Oh, Cajara is not my candidate,” Champion Havtru said.

  Of course she’s not, Hanna thought, resisting an eye roll. But if he wanted to pretend that the girl was just a family friend or a stray relative who fancied a trip to Semo, then she had no interest in arguing with him. She made a mental note not to trust Havtru with any stealth missions. “How about him? Is he just a friend as well?”

  The man in brown stepped forward and bowed awkwardly. “Madam Ambassador, ma’am, my name is Renet. From East Everdale. And I’m here to see my wife, Naelin. Queen Naelin. My former wife. That is, I’d like to speak with her, if I may. And our children?”

  Oh, poor man.

  “I’ve, uh, heard some rumors since we came to Semo.” He twisted his hands together, fidgeting like a child. “Guards at the border. People in the city. In the palace. They’re all talking. They say Naelin . . . Queen Naelin . . . They say she . . . She’s gone to the untamed lands? But that’s impossible.”

  He was looking at her with pleading eyes, as if begging for her to laugh and say it wasn’t true. She couldn’t say that. Hanna gestured toward the cushioned chairs. “You might want to sit.” She didn’t know what rumors he’d heard, but she did have news she thought he’d welcome. “She’s not planning on dying. She believes . . .” It was difficult to say the next part exactly right. She didn’t want to either crush him or raise his hopes unrealistically. “She’s gone to rescue your children. We have reason to believe they’re in the untamed lands.”

  Arin gasped. “But no one—” With a glance at Renet, she bit off the rest of what she was going to say. Cajara reached over and took Arin’s hand.

  “The untamed . . . How? Why?” Renet stammered. “They’re supposed to be in Semo! Everyone said . . . That’s why Naelin . . . Not the untamed lands!” He’d gone pale and started to shake. She was glad she’d told him to sit. He didn’t look as if he’d be able to stand. Havtru looked stunned as well. Surprisingly, the girl Cajara’s expression didn’t change. Her face was as placid as it had been since she’d arrived. A nice change from all the histrionics of Queen Merecot and the emotional hurricane of Queen Naelin, Hanna thought. If this is Havtru’s candidate, I approve.

  “I must go with her!” Renet cried.

  “You can’t,” Hanna said, this time barely able to suppress her eye roll. As if this man could do anything there. “She’s already gone. But don’t worry. Champion Ven is with her. He’ll protect her, and if your children are alive, they’ll find them and bring them safely home.”

  “I should be with her. They’re my children. And she’s my wife.” He swallowed hard, and his throat bobbed. “That is . . . There was another rumor . . .” He faltered, as if he couldn’t even put it into words.

  “She’s Champion Ven’s wife now,” she said as gently as possible. “But they will find your children, if they can.”

  He deflated like a wilted flower on the couch. Sinking his face into his hands, he moaned. At last, he said, “I wasn’t worthy of her. Or them. Erian and Llor. Never was. But I will be. When they return to Aratay . . . they’ll see I have changed. I will change!”

  Hanna gave him an encouraging smile. “Excellent!” And that was all the energy she wanted to spare on a stranger’s emotional needs. She turned to Havtru. “We’ll begin preparations for our return to Aratay. I’ll tell my guards after we meet with Queen Merecot.”

  Havtru’s face relaxed into a smile, as if he’d been expecting her to argue with him about leav
ing Semo. I’m ornery, Hanna thought, not stupid. Of course I’ll go back. Someone has to keep an eye on Merecot. “You three rest and recover from your journey,” she said to Arin, Cajara, and Renet. “Champion Havtru and I must go deliver an invitation.”

  Oh, sweet, naïve Daleina. Merecot had to work hard to keep a triumphant grin off her face. “What a delightful and unexpected invitation,” she said to Ambassador Hanna and Champion Havtru.

  “I know what you’re thinking—you suspect a trap—but I believe it’s sincerely meant,” Hanna said, a hint of weariness in her voice that made Merecot think she was genuine. She clearly believed that Daleina’s motives were innocent, and if Merecot was reading the ambassador correctly, she didn’t approve. That was almost amusing. “Queen Daleina wants to establish a permanent peace.”

  Of course it’s not a trap. Daleina won’t kill me. She doesn’t have it in her. “Don’t we all want that? And how nice that she sent a champion to deliver her invitation. Makes it all formal and official.”

  Champion Havtru bowed.

  The last person she wanted to see in Semo, aside from her old headmistress, was another reminder of the life she’d set aside: a champion. Merecot hadn’t lasted at Northeast Academy long enough for one of Aratay’s much-lauded champions to choose her. And he hadn’t come alone, she knew. A man and two girls had accompanied him, though they’d stayed behind for this meeting. She had spies watching them, of course; she’d know who they were and why they’d come in short order. Not that it matters. She had what she wanted.

  Best not to look too eager.

  Narrowing her eyes at Hanna and Havtru, Merecot drummed her fingers on the armrest of her throne. “This is a time of change for my country. My people need me here . . . Yet this is a historic opportunity. Few queens visit their neighbors.”

  She didn’t mention her last “visit,” and they, politely, didn’t either.

  “We would be honored to escort Your Majesty to Mittriel,” Champion Havtru said with another bow. He then fiddled with the collar of his shirt. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, which was also amusing. She had to work again to keep from smiling.

  Merecot waved away his offer. “I don’t need an escort.” She silently ordered one of the smaller spirits to blow open one of the large windows, and then summoned her favorite mount: an air spirit with golden feathers, an eagle body, and a man’s head. He swooped into the throne room and circled the chandeliers. “As you can see, I have my own transportation. You are, of course, welcome to enjoy the hospitality of my castle.”

  She had no intention of letting them slow her down. Not when victory was so close.

  “But Your Majesty, it would be our privilege to . . .” Hanna began.

  Merecot let out a little laugh. “Oh, there’s no need to trouble yourselves. I know the way.” She thought of Queen Jastra and wished she could have said “I told you so.” See, I did have a plan, and it’s happening even more quickly than I’d imagined. If only you’d believed in me more . . . One queen gone, and an open invitation to visit the other. Access to Daleina, near the Aratayian Grove. It was like Daleina was giving Merecot everything they’d wanted, wrapped in a pretty bow. If I’d killed Naelin, this wouldn’t have happened.

  She tried not to picture Jastra in her last moments. I can’t be missing her. She betrayed me. But she couldn’t help wishing things had turned out differently. It would have been nice to have someone on her side, advising her, rooting for her.

  Hanna was frowning. She had a formidable frown that still made Merecot wonder if she’d finished her homework. “Queen Merecot, as official ambassador to Semo, I should accompany you. I believe I may be able to aid . . .”

  Merecot smiled merrily, hoping it wasn’t obvious that she was delighted to soon be free of her old headmistress. “Oh, you’ve done quite enough. Why not rest here while I pay a visit on my dear old friend? We can chat again after I return.”

  Indeed, there was a lovely secondary benefit to leaving them here, under the protection of Merecot’s guards: they’d be assurances against Daleina’s good behavior. After all, Daleina’s and my last meeting was . . . dramatic. Having her beloved headmistress as well as one of her brave champions—not to mention the potential assassins and the palace guards who’d accompanied Hanna—would make nice leverage if Merecot needed it. At the very least, it will ensure Daleina plays nice.

  Both the champion and ambassador began to protest, but Merecot cut them off. “You’d only slow me down. If I fly fast enough, I can reach Mittriel before nightfall. I do love to make a dramatic entrance.” She paused, reaching with her mind to touch the gold eagle spirit. “And a dramatic exit.”

  The enormous eagle with a man’s head dove from the chandelier, and she leapt from the throne onto its back and flew out the window. Tapestries fluttered in her wake, and she reveled in the feeling of near-victory.

  While the queen of Semo flew south, Daleina rehearsed her welcome speech for her former-friend Queen Merecot in the mirror. She had two options: the let-us-have-peace speech and the you-are-irredeemably-evil speech.

  Lounging on a couch behind her, Garnah said, “I like the second one.”

  Daleina didn’t turn around. “Your opinion on this is not required.”

  “Remind me again why Mother is here,” Hamon said. “There’s been no word from the north that Queen Merecot even received your message, much less accepted your invitation.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Daleina studied her own face in the reflection. She’d dusted pale powder under her eyes but it only made her look ghoulish, not less tired. She rubbed her cheeks hard until they pinkened. There, I look a little more alive now. “She’s already coming. She’ll be here shortly.”

  Behind her, she heard Hamon jump to his feet, knocking over a small table. A vase crashed onto the floor. He was scooping up shards of pottery when she turned around. “You should have told us,” he said. “The guards . . .”

  “I’ll need you to leave, Hamon.”

  He stopped.

  “You can’t be here when she comes,” Daleina said as gently as she could.

  “I’m not leaving you alone with that woman,” Hamon sputtered. “She had you poisoned!”

  “Your mother will watch for that.” Reaching out with her mind, Daleina felt the spirits only a few miles outside Mittriel react as the other queen flew through the trees. Through their eyes, she saw Merecot as a golden blur.

  “You can’t trust her either,” Hamon said.

  “Hamon!” Garnah said in feigned shock.

  Ignoring his mother, Hamon crossed to Daleina and took her hands. His hands felt dry and soft in hers. “You know I would give my life to keep you safe.” Earnest, devoted Hamon. She nearly smiled, but she didn’t want him to think she was mocking him. He meant every word, and she treasured that—he was one of the few people in the palace who she knew had no ulterior motive. She knew how rare and lucky it was for a queen to have someone she could trust so absolutely.

  “I know, and we must assume Merecot knows this too, which is why I need you elsewhere, ready with antidotes if I need them.” She didn’t want to tell Hamon that while she trusted him with her own life, she didn’t trust him with Merecot’s. He’d made his opinion on the poisoning abundantly clear, and she didn’t want him to do anything rash in the name of defending his queen. Just because I know he loves me, it doesn’t mean I know he’ll behave the way I need him to. “Trust me, Hamon. Please leave.”

  He wasn’t happy with her. She hadn’t expected him to be.

  Leaning forward, she kissed him. “Please, Hamon.” Placing her hands on either side of his face, she gazed at him, trying to put all her love and trust into her eyes. You are my safety, she thought. The one rock that won’t move, the one tree that won’t fall, the river that will carry me and never drown me. “Leave. For me.”

  He left, still unhappy, and Garnah chuckled. “You know my son’s weaknesses. You. You give him exactly the kind of love and trust a boy like Hamon
needs.” Shuffling over to a side table, Garnah poured herself a crystal goblet full of spiced pear juice. She popped a chocolate into her mouth. Daleina didn’t know how she could eat at a time like this. She felt jittery inside and out.

  “Do you know what he was like as a child?” Garnah didn’t wait for Daleina to answer. She talked as if she were conversing only with herself. “Pleasant. You’ve never had children, so you don’t know how unusual that is. Children can be charming or intelligent or imaginative or destructive balls of chaotic fury. But they’re rarely ‘pleasant.’ Our neighbors would coo over him and tell me how lucky I was to have such a well-behaved son. And Hamon would go on pleasing them, being unfailingly polite and kind. For many years, I assumed he was deliberately manipulating all those fools.”

  Daleina pictured Hamon as a child, bright-eyed and eager to please—and how impossible it must have been for someone as empathetic as he was to have a mother who casually murdered people, including her own husband, Hamon’s father. It’s a wonder that Hamon came out of his childhood whole.

  “It wasn’t until long after he left me that I realized the silly boy was sincere. He has a towering need to love and be loved. He truly cared about the well-being of all those ridiculous people. The only one he never found room in his heart for was me. Do you know how it feels to have your own child deny you?”

  Daleina was saved from having to reply by the shriek of a tree spirit.

  She’s here.

  Striding across the room to the balcony, Daleina called to the spirits in Mittriel, felt their agitation, drew them closer to the blur of gold that crossed into the city. She asked the spirits to flank the queen, like an escort—they already wanted to watch her, so it was easy to coax them into the trees and the air. At Daleina’s direction, the spirits of Aratay funneled the queen of Semo toward the palace, where Daleina waited, her heart pounding in her throat.