by Janeal Falor
He grins. “Quite.” With movements like a snake, he darts out and stabs my palm with the hand not holding a dagger on Inkga.
“What was that?” I barely feel the pinprick.
“Your downfall.”
Before he can say anything else, the door opens. Jem rushes in the room and halts when she sees the scene. But it’s enough.
Daros glances her way, and I slam my hand across his wrist, knocking the dagger out of his hand while at the same time pulling Inkga toward me. I shove her behind me, and Wilric is there with his sword.
Daros blocks Wilric with his dagger and pulls out a sword from his voluminous robes. Jem backs into a corner, calling for more guards, and pulls a dagger from her skirt. They pour in the room, Nash with them, but before they can get to us, Daros stabs Wilric.
Wilric puts a hand to his stomach, where the wound is bleeding. His face is going pale. I put my dagger to Daros’s neck as Wilric falls to the ground. The guards point their blades at Daros, and Jem runs to Wilric, Nash right behind her.
Nash calls out, “Are you all right, Ryn?”
“Fine. How’s Wilric?”
Nash kneels on the ground next to Wilric and looks him over. He doesn’t have to say anything; I can read it in his eyes. The wound is fatal, even if Wilric is still grasping onto life.
I press the tip of my weapon into Daros’s neck, ready to make the killing blow.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Daros’s voice is calm. Certain.
I hesitate. It’s probably another trick to keep him alive. But there’s nothing he could do with so many guards around him. “Take his sword and dagger.”
Two guards grab them. I expect him to put up a fight, but he just stands there. I move so I see his face. See what he’s thinking. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Two reasons I think you’ll find very interesting.”
I press my blade harder against his neck. “And they are?”
He smirks and takes his time answering. “One—because I poisoned you.”
Chapter 38
Nash yells, “No.”
Jem tears off a part of her skirt and covers Wilric’s stomach while glancing at me, eyes wide. A guard says, “I’m going for a healer.” The rest talk over one another in a jumbled mess, keeping their swords on Daros. I wait, processing what’s happening.
And Daros stands in the midst of it all, looking smug.
My brain kicks back into thought. “What poison?” I let the guards keep their swords on him as I pull the pouch off from around my neck.
“That won’t do you any good,” he says.
I don’t care. I reach in and take a little of every antidote I have. They are bitter as they go down, but not nearly as bad as being poisoned. What poison is there left I’m not immune to? Only a few, and they're all minor.
Nash rushes past me and punches Daros in the face. “What is the antidote?”
“Ah, so we care for our little queen, do we?” Daros chuckles, blood streaming from his nose.
Nash shakes him with a growl. “I swear, if you don’t tell me what poison it is, I will make your life more miserable than your death.”
“It’s simple—something I developed recently. If it doesn’t kill her, it will leave her drained of her strength and muscle tone, rendering her useless.”
I clench my teeth, trying to keep my emotions in. Nash doesn’t hold back; he punches Daros again, the smack echoing through the room. Daros grunts, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.
“Why would you do this?” I want to scream, but the words come out as a whisper. I know why, but it's still hard to fathom that it would actually happen.
“Simple. You didn’t do what I wanted. I can’t seem to kill you. The next best thing is to leave you maimed.”
“You are a cruel, stupid man.” My voice is tight.
“It’s a pleasure, I assure you.”
He’s smug. Has he finally won the war?
I don’t feel any weaker.
Except that’s not true. The hand he pricked is limp. I try to make a fist with it, but it only goes halfway. I try again, pushing my fingers together as hard as I can. It won’t work. No matter how much I try, I can’t make a fist.
It’s starting.
I’ll never be able to protect myself again. Never be able to hold a dagger. Never be able to fulfill my duties as queen—if I manage to live.
Daros has won.
I realize Nash is watching me try to make a fist, his expression unreadable. He turns back to Daros, grabs his tunic with both hands, and shakes him. “How do we fix this?”
“It’s simple.” Daros brushes Nash’s hands away. “You don’t. Not without me. Not without giving into my control.”
I’m going to be sick. “I’ll never give in to you, so there’s no point in keeping you around.”
I raise my dagger with my good hand. The door bursts open. It’s a healer, accompanied by the guard who went to get him. The healer rushes to me, but I hold out a hand to stop him. “There’s nothing you can do for me now. Help Wilric.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t question me. He moves next to Jem, peering under the red-soaked material. He shakes his head, and for a moment, I think he’s going to give up. But then he gets to work.
I turn back to Daros. “For all your crimes, you will die.”
Again, I raise the dagger.
“Remember I said I had two reasons.” Daros is calm, which is more concerning than if he was upset. “I knew the first might not work against you, so I have a backup plan.”
Of course he does. “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve ruined enough with your venomous words.”
“I didn’t want to speak of it in front of so many, but you leave me with no choice. I believe you’ve met the First Queen.”
There’s a cold grip around my heart. The First Queen’s presence draws near, and I can feel her interest. Her wonder. And maybe a little bit of something else. Something darker. Unless that’s all me.
“We’ll speak of this later.” If I have a later. I turn to my guards, ignoring Nash’s questioning glare. “Take him to a room with no windows and only a door to the hall and all of you stay with him until I come for him.” Or die. But then Nash will take care of everything. I know he will.
As they move Daros away, I want to wipe the smug grin off his face, but there are more important things to deal with first. I hurry to Wilric’s side and ask the healer, “What news do you have for me?”
He rubs the back of his hand on his forehead, not taking his eyes off of his patient. Jem does the same beside him, holding Wilric’s hand. “I’ve given him some medicine that should help make him more comfortable, but…” The healer looks at me. “I’m sorry. For you all.” His gaze switches to Nash, Jem, and finally lands on Wilric himself.
Wilric’s pale face is scrunched together. His words are laced with pain. “At least I can say I died protecting my queen.”
My chest squeezes so hard it hurts. “We can’t just give up like this.”
“It’s all right Ryn,” he says. “I’m at peace.”
“Well, I’m not. There has to be something we can do. Some medicine or something better, like… magic.” I turn to Nash. “Send a servant for Venda. Maybe she knows a spell that can help.”
He bolts away.
“Now, can I please have a look at you, Your Majesty?” the Healer asks.
I wave away his concern. “Unless you know a way to stop a new poison that will kill me or weaken me if I live through it, there’s nothing you can do.”
“At least let me stitch up your back.”
As if that will do me any good should I die. “After we get Wilric better.”
He opens his mouth, and then seems to think better of it and snaps it closed.
My mind swirls with everything that’s happened, but I force my focus on what’s at hand. “Hold on, Wilric. Help is coming. You need to stay tough for me.”
“Is that. An order. Your Majesty?”
“It
is. I order you to stay alive until Venda gets here, and then you let her help you live.”
“I’m afraid that’s. One thing. I can’t. Obey.”
Jem breaks into a sob, resting her head against his shoulder. What transpired between the two of them while I was gone? They seem closer than ever, only now to be torn apart by death’s embrace.
The door opens with a bang. Venda rushes in, Puneah trailing after, and I make room for her by his side. “Is there anything you can do for him?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply, just waves two stones over his body. Her eyes are wide and wild, her cheeks almost rosy under the sheen of silvery skin. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she looks mad. But then, maybe crazy is the only option we’re left with.
She mutters something I can’t make out under her breath. Jem glances up at her for a brief moment, hope shining in her eyes, before turning her gaze back to Wilric.
Venda continues moving the stones over him a moment before turning to me, her eyes wet. “I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do.”
“Check. The queen,” Wilric gasps out. “She’s been. Poisoned.”
Venda’s gaze turns sharp. “With what?”
“I don’t know. He said it was something new he’d made himself, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. It’s supposed to kill me, and if it doesn’t succeed at that, make me weak. I can feel it traveling up my arm.”
All gazes in the room turn to my left arm. I want to hold it behind me so they can’t see how limp it’s hanging.
“I may be able to do something about that. Lie down.” Venda’s words are firm.
“Not until Wilric is taken care of.” It seems silly to put my life before another’s, even if I am queen.
“Now, or there may not be time. The longer the poison is in you, the more damage it will do.” The sternness of her words takes me aback, but I do as she says. I lie on the floor next to Wilric, watching the life drain from him and taking my composure with it.
Tears leak from my eyes. “I don’t want you to go. You’ve been a good protector and friend. Even more so to those I care about.”
“I have to.” His eyes close. “Make sure… my family knows… I love them.”
“I will. You will be honored and remembered.” The tears flow freely.
His chest gives one last heave. Then stillness.
Jem sobs, breaking down in a way I never thought I’d see. Nash clenches his jaw, his eyes wet.
Venda’s voice pulls my attention back to her. “The poison has reached your heart.”
The room goes silent with tension and sadness. Nash stands and moves just behind Venda, looking straight at me. Puneah stalks over to me, her tails twitching. She buries her head in my neck. For once, I don’t want to swat her away but enjoy the comfort from one of the few places I can get it.
My vision darkens around the edges. I try to speak, but my mouth won’t open. My body feels as if it’s being torn apart, leaving me unable to control it. I want to scream and shout. Cry and rage. But I can do nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Chapter 39
It’s dark.
Every muscle is weak.
I feel like I’m outside myself. Not connected to anything. Just floating…
Floating…
Floating…
Colors sparkle my vision—little pricks of reds, greens, yellows, and oranges, growing bigger and brighter.
Is this it? Have I… died?
I search for something—anything—to tell me that there’s life. Breaths. Heartbeat. Blinking. They aren’t there. None of it exists. Except…
The First Queen.
Her presence is near. I can’t tell where she is; I only know she’s here. Thinking. Probing.
I want to move. To talk and ask her questions. To find out what’s going on. Am I feeling her in death or life? Has the poison affected me so much that I can’t do anything? Has it taken me from life or left me maimed? Is this how I’m going to be forever? Stuck in some sort of in-between state? I hope not because this is mental agony. I don’t know how long I can stand it.
I continue that way. Drifting. Always drifting.
There are times I try to talk, to move or do anything, but nothing happens. Just more of the same. The entire time, the First Queen is here.
What does Daros know about her? What does he want to talk about? Maybe it will never matter. Maybe I’ll be stuck in this place forever and will never find out.
Minutes, hours, days, months, years pass by in a panic of not being able to do anything. Despite how much time seems to pass, it all remains the same. A boring, unending splash of colors and nothingness.
Then finally, finally, something changes. The world blackens, slowly like a fog creeping in. With the darkness comes cold. Though it almost burns, it’s so chilly that it’s good to feel something. Anything. I embrace the pain and the low temperature.
Something happens so subtly I have to wonder how long it’s been going on that I haven’t been able to hear it. A faint sound. A mumble of something deep, followed by something light and airy. The grumbling grows louder, a faint tingling in my body.
My body. I can feel it. Faintly, but it’s there. Maybe I cheated death. But what awaits me if I did so?
I try to blink. There’s a flutter of light and darkness. I wince.
“She moved.” Nash’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.
Something soft moves against my hand and stays there. I blink again and groan, though it comes out faint.
“Ryn? Can you hear me? It’s time to wake up.”
“What happened?” My words sound cold and slurred. My mouth hurts from moving just that much.
“You passed out. Venda was able to keep you from death, but she wasn’t sure how much damage would be done.”
“Give yourself a minute, and you can try talking again.” Venda’s voice is smooth.
I force my eyelids open, feeling like there’s a fifty-pound weight on each of them. The world is a blur of color. My breathing quickens. Am I back in that dreamless state? But then the world comes into view, and the panic recedes.
Above me, Nash and Venda are standing on opposite sides of the bed watching on. Puneah is at my hand on the bed, her head buried there. One question comes to me. “Wilric?”
Nash grimaces. “He’s passed on.”
Tears seep out of the corner of my eyes, but I can’t brush them away. I can’t even blink them away. The world smears before me. There’s no way to control the flow of salty water out of my eyes. There’s nothing I can do, and it only makes the tears come on harder.
I grit my teeth. It takes all my energy to do so and blink several times. I’m strong. I can handle death. It’s something I’m familiar with. But life without strength? I don’t know if I can take it.
“It’s all right,” Venda says. “Try and keep calm. I believe the poison has weakened you, despite my trying to stop it.”
I steel myself to get the words out. “How long will I be like this?”
The faintest wrinkle appears between her eyebrows—something most people wouldn’t notice. “I don’t know,” she says. Whatever the real answer is, I don’t like it.
“Don’t know, or don’t want to tell me?”
She shakes her head. “Honestly, I’m not certain.”
“What are the chances?” Nash asks, making me grateful he can ask what I can’t.
Her words come out faint but audible. “That you may never regain your strength.”
I let my eyelids close, not willing to keep them open. I’m grateful it’s hard to move even my facial muscles. I don’t want to show any emotion. Don’t want to give away the torrent raging through me. For rage it does.
The pain is quick and intense. Daros injured me far greater than if he killed me. He did me the ultimate harm. I’ve always been tough. Swift. Powerful.
And now, I’m nothing.
Chapter 40
A week passes. Each day is agony a
s I try to work my muscles, to get them to obey me, but they’re uncooperative. I get to where I can blink and talk, but the rest of my movements are slow and uncoordinated.
Others try to comfort me with the fact I still have life, but this is a nothingness like I’ve never experienced. A torment like no other. I never realized how much worse of a torture Daros could put me through than I’ve already been, but it happened.
Nash is the only one who doesn’t try to coat things with sweet words and looks. He visits often, usually when others are about, to keep things proper since I’m stuck in bed. He doesn’t require anything of me. Doesn’t speak words that hurt to hear. He just stays near.
Inkga brought word only once that Shillian was begging to see me even though she'd been kicked out of the palace since being cleared by Jaku. I'm certain Shillian asked for me more, but I told Inkga I didn't wish to be informed of them. I don't want to think on the crimes of my parents right now. Or ever. I did ask about Jem though. My lady-in-waiting hasn't been by to see me since Wilric died. My heart aches for her, but I haven't been able to talk to her. Not yet.
Puneah also visits often like Nash, and I’m finding her presence more soothing than I thought it would be. She never uses her teeth on me, but gives others ferocious looks. The servants avoid her, except Inkga, who acts like the fila isn’t there.
She's here now, curled up on the side of the bed opposite of Nash.
“When is Wilric’s funeral?” They are the first words I’ve spoken all day. I need to begin focusing on things outside myself, no matter how hard it is. I have a country to look after. Nash has been giving me reports, but I’ve done nothing with them. At least now I can focus on something important, though something that should never have been.
“It’s tomorrow.” The sorrow that laces his words is enough to make my heart ache.
“Best start dealing with things, then. Get Inkga, please.”
The servant that was hiding in the corner hurries from the room to do my bidding. It’s the first thing I’ve asked for since being confined to my bed. They’ve brought me food and drink, which I took, hoping it’d give me my strength back. None of it has worked. I’m as useless as never before.