by Janeal Falor
Several quiet minutes later, Inkga comes in with the servant.
I say, “Help me sit up, please.”
“Of course.” There’s no pity in her eyes, unlike the servant that came to assist her.
She’s been by often too—the one to take care of me since I can’t take care of myself. So few are allowed to touch me. Maybe that should change now that I have no strength, but I doubt it will.
Puneah slinks to the floor when I tell her to get down. I’m jostled about until I’m put in a sitting position, pillows behind me and all around me. Inkga wipes her brow. “What else can I help with, Ryn?”
Puneah jumps up beside me and curls into a ball at my side. “Will you make sure that there’s a way for me to attend Wilric's funeral?” Not that I want to go out in public looking like this, but I have to be there for him. He gave his life for me and made it so I could apprehend Daros, who is still locked up with several guards on a rotating schedule.
“Of course. I’ll get right on it, unless you have something else you’d like me to do?”
“That would be perfect. Send Daros in with his guards after I speak with Jaku and Nash.” I look at the other servant. “And you are dismissed. I’ll send someone for you if I need you.”
She curtsies. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
They both leave. Nash says, “What are you going to do?”
“Something I should have done the moment I woke up. Take care of Daros.” Even if I can no longer do it by my own hand.
I glance down at my motionless arms and legs that feel heavier than lead. A cringe works its way up, but I suppress it. I don’t want to deal with that. More like, I can’t.
We wait in silence, Nash’s presence the only thing that reassures me. I don’t know how I’m going to be the queen, but I know he’ll do everything he can to help. Will it be enough?
Several minutes later, Jaku walks in. His shoulder is bandaged up and in a sling, but otherwise, he looks like his usual tough self. He doesn’t say a thing about my condition, just gets right down to business. “Daros is waiting out in the hall. You want to see him now?”
“Yes, but first there’s something I should tell you. Nash already knows, but I have to let you know too. I can’t have Daros in here without some help, even if he’s tied up. I don’t trust him, but I trust you two. This may be hard to believe, but I assure you, it’s true.” I explain about the First Queen, and how she comes to me in dreamlike states and has been since I was crowned.
The only reaction he gives is a slight widening of his eyes.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“Daros knows of this, you say?”
“Yes, though I don’t know to what extent or how he found out.”
Jaku clenches the hilt of his sword with his good hand. “I will keep this honor bound between us, but it may do no good if Daros knows.”
“You believe me, then?”
He hesitates. “I believe something strange is definitely going on. The Mortum Tura is magic, and it’s true that we don’t know much about it.”
Not nearly enough. “Let’s bring Daros in, unless you have any other thoughts?”
“I’ll make certain he’s well-tied up before bringing him in here. Since I’m injured, I’ll only be of little use to you.”
Nash stands and pulls out both a sword and a dagger. “He’ll never again touch her if I have anything to say about it.”
Jaku gives him a nod before leaving my room. Waiting for Daros is torture. Each moment seems like a lifetime. I realize I’m tying to pinch my fingers but they’re barely moving. I want to growl in frustration but work to keep myself calm. To prove he can’t intimidate me no matter what’s to come.
But the fear is still there.
Then again, so is the rage.
The door opens. The guards surround Daros, bringing him into the room. They pull up a chair and tie him to it, though his wrists and ankles are chained together. Jaku and Nash flank him, swords out.
To the rest of the guards, I say, “You may go.”
They leave.
Daros has a smug smile, his dark eyes not leaving mine. “You wanted to see me, girl?”
My old fear bubbles up at that name. I shove it down. I’m not that person anymore. “You know what I want,” I say.
“It’d be much easier to speak with you without these chains on.”
“It’d be even easier for my men to chop off your head.”
The smile dims but doesn’t disappear. “You would lose the information I have.”
“And you would lose your life.”
“You wouldn’t kill me. I have too much you need.”
I turn my eyes on Nash. “Kill hi—”
“No, no. Wait,” Daros pleads. “I’ll tell you.”
“Everything. Now. And it had better be good if you want me to spare you.”
“The First Queen—I know how to kill her.”
Something flickers in me. “And why would I want to do that?”
“If you haven’t noticed yet, you will. There are moments where she wants you to do something you don’t want to do. Times you don’t feel like yourself. Things about her that make you wonder if she’s what she says she is.”
My stomach roils with acid. How did he know to voice my quietest fears? And worse—what if he’s right, like my gut says he is?
“Why should I believe what you’re saying? You’ve taken everything away from me,” I say.
“I have made you what you are,” he roars, straining against his chains. “Without me, you’d be nothing. Just another peasant girl, a meal away from starvation.”
“I wouldn’t have starved. I would have been loved and cherished.”
“You would be weak.”
I hate it, but he’s right.
There’s no way I would be queen and able to help Valcora like I want, but then, so many people would be alive, if not for me. Like Queen Deedra. Like Wilric. I pull myself away and back to the task at hand. “How do you know this?”
“Let’s just say I have my ways.”
“You have given me no reason to trust you, so tell me—how do you know this?”
He sighs, a faint sound. “I realized that the queens started to have patterns over history. They would start out different, but after a time, they would all revert to the same or similar laws and personality. I even found paintings of ones that lived long enough, and in their later years, they started to look alike.”
Fear stabs through my chest. “What did they look like?”
“You know, but I’ll tell you. They all started with dark, Valcorian hair, but it turned lighter until it was blonde. And no matter what color their eyes were to begin with, they turned a bright green.”
My stomach drops far below my bed. Puneah lifts her head to look at me. I can feel Nash’s and Jaku’s gazes on me as well, but I don’t glance at any of them. Just at Daros. If this means what I think it means, the First Queen is trying to replace me so she can rule over my people. And her rule will drown them in misery. “How do I get rid of her?”
My head pounds with the sudden fierceness of the First Queen’s presence. It’s stronger than I’ve ever felt it before—a hot anger that’s not my own, coursing through me. It’s all hers, though I want to howl with her emotion as if it was my own.
“You’re feeling her now, aren’t you?”
I clench my jaw. “What do I do?”
“First, you’re going to get me out of these chains, and then you’re going to listen to me and do what I say.”
My breathing becomes ragged. I can't trust him, but then, how can I not? If I could move, I’d be punching something. Daros spent my life turning me into exactly what he wanted, and then he used me. And now that I’m finally away from him, I have to fall back in that trap.
To kill the woman trying to take over my life and my country, I must heed the man I despise.
Death’s Assassin
by
Janeal Falor
To Erik
I love you. Always.
Chapter 1
Tattered.
Hopeless.
Broken.
That’s my life now, ever since Daros poisoned me. It’s hard to care about anything when I have no life left in me. “The crowd is going to hate me. I don't even look like a queen.”
“It won't matter that you can’t move well,” Inkga says as she wraps my hair around a simple crown.
Perhaps, but it matters. I haven’t been able to do much. I can still feel everything but lack the ability to move—except for lifting my finger and head a little—and this feeling of helplessness has been overwhelming. “I don’t want to be carried to Wilric’s funeral by servants.” Saying his name chokes me up. Tightens my throat like a rope.
If only he’d stayed safe. If only Daros hadn’t killed him. If only I’d been faster.
Too many if onlys.
“I want to stand in front of the people on my own two feet and address them properly,” I say.
“You’ll command their respect whether or not you stand in front of them. You always do.” Inkga adjusts a few strands of hair and declares me finished.
I look so different than when I first became queen almost a year ago. My cheeks are rounder, fuller, and my eyes are more green than blue. My hair is longer and a lighter brown—almost a dirty blonde. I resemble the First Queen more and more. She's taking over me.
The First Queen. What am I to do about her?
After coming to my dreams for almost a year and offering to help me rule, the First Queen has shown her true colors. I need to eliminate her. We’ve spent too long under her oppression, with queens going bad after some time with her influence.
Her presence draws near. My lip pulls into a half-snarl without my permission.
“Don’t you like it?” Inkga asks.
I force the First Queen’s presence away and smile, though fear consumes me. Inkga deserves more gratitude than I can give her. Besides, she doesn’t know about the First Queen and certainly doesn’t know I'm being taken over. Being haunted. Only Jaku, Daros, Nash, and I know what’s going on. I force my attention back to Inkga. “You’ve done a splendid job. Thank you for helping me.”
She beams. “It’s a pleasure.”
When she turns around to make my bed, I let my expression fall. She’s been nothing but kind, helping me with literally everything. I can’t even eat or take care of the necessary myself. There are some things another person should never have to do for me, yet here I am, in a lounge chair a servant carried me to after several maids helped me change into a black mourning dress.
The sneer creeps back. This time, it’s my own.
There’s a knock at my sitting room door, and Inkga leaves the bedroom to get it. When she doesn’t come back right away, I swear under my breath. She could be attacked, and I can do nothing about it. The image of her lying bruised and bloodied on the floor makes my heart pound. “Inkga? Are you all right?” I ask.
“Fine. Be there in a moment,” she calls back.
I growl, but not so loud she can hear me. As I wait, I work on lifting the pointer finger of my right hand and lowering it again. It barely rises. There’s no point to this. Daros knew what he was doing when he developed this poison and stabbed me with a dagger laced with it. I should be grateful I lived through it with the help of Venda from Faner and her magic. Thanks to her, I cheated death once again, only to be bound to this body, too weak to do anything.
The urge to throw a dagger is overwhelming. It’s been too long since I practiced. Since I exercised.
And there’s not a blasted thing I can do about it.
Not even magic can fix my circumstances. At least, not as far as we've been able to tell with Venda trying.
Inkga pops her head through the doorway, barely noticeable in the mirror. I wish I could turn around so my back wasn’t to her. Not that I don’t trust her—I got over that a while ago. It’s the principle of the thing.
“Nash has a surprise you’re going to love.” She dances into the room and comes around to the front so I can face her. “He’s putting the finishing touches on it right now while Puneah sniffs around. He’ll be here in a moment, to take you to it.”
I hadn’t noticed Puneah leave my side. Despite my being uncertain about her when Venda first gifted her to me, she’s become something of a comfort. I shouldn’t have gotten so lost in my despair that I ignored the sleek, giant, cat-like creature.
But it’s difficult not to.
“What did Nash do?” I try to put enthusiasm in my words, but they come out flat. Everything we’ve been through together—the hurts and comforts, the love we’ve shared. It is true that we could never be a couple, but now we can’t even steal a secret touch.
“Nuh-uh. I’m not telling, or it wouldn’t be a surprise.” She grins and does a happy dance.
I want to growl at her ease of movement, but I refrain.
My mood doesn’t dampen her spirits one bit. She does a little two-step and hurries back to the door. A moment later, Nash comes in with no surprise in sight. My heart gives an odd squeeze, like I'm not sure whether I want to run to him or run away. Either way, I’m stuck in this chair. No running happening.
His smile is shyer than I’ve seen on him before, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “Good morning, Ryn.”
There’s so much I want to say, but I settle on, “It’s good to see you.”
He walks around to my side and bends his knees until he’s eye level with me. “May I have your permission to carry you into the other room, my queen?” The way he says the last two words is like a caress against my heart.
“You may,” I reply.
We can make contact without getting into trouble. Of course, that’s only because I can’t get around without help, and it often becomes necessary for people to carry me. The council gave their permission for these circumstances. Some were reluctant to do so, but enough members were on my side, and between that and my inability to do anything, they didn’t have much of a choice. They wanted to assign a single person to move me around, but it felt strange to have one servant waiting on me all the time. Not even Inkga does that, and she works harder than anyone else I know.
It’s not ideal, but it’s all I have.
“You may,” I reply.
Nash swings me into his arms like I weigh no more than a bird, though I’ve put on some weight since becoming queen, and I'm no longer skin and bones. I’m nestled against his shoulder and chest, where I feel nothing except for the unforgiving metal of his steel vest. Despite that, tingles race across my skin at his nearness.
I take in the scent that’s all Nash—metal and earth. I want to get lost in it and pretend that nothing else exists. That I can stay here forever.
Only that’s impossible.
Puneah comes to our side and follows along as Nash takes me to the other room, Inkga close behind. Nash has been so good to me, but I can’t help wondering how he’s doing deep inside. He won’t talk about his problems and is just there for me. I wish there was more I could do for him. Perhaps if I get out of this melancholy that’s overcome me, I’ll be able to see his needs better.
He stops a few steps inside my sitting room, and Inkga skirts around him to the other side, bouncing on her toes. Nash swivels me around so I can see the room.
At first, I don’t notice anything. All I want to do is hide back under my covers and sleep. Forget about a world where I can’t move or love the man I chose. Where I’ll soon be under the control of a mad woman. Of course, she’s in my dreams too, although I haven’t dreamt of her since I discovered her real intent.
Besides, I can’t go to sleep because I can’t get to my bed without help.
Nash tilts his head to the side. “Do you like it?”
It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s talking about. There’s a chair next to him I haven’t seen before. It’s polished elm, with a high back and sides. Thicker than most, it has four wooden wheels—two l
arge ones in the back, and two smaller ones in the front. Wait. Wheels? On a chair?
“What is that?” I ask.
“I like to call it a wheelchair. Want to try it out?”
“It’s mine?”
“Made it myself. Well, with some help.”
“I…” Don’t know what to say. He made this for me?
“It’s fine if you don’t want to use it, but I thought it might be better if there was a chair we could push you around in, so you didn’t have to be carried around.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me without trying it.” But his smile has grown wider. “Here you go.” He leans down and helps me settle into the chair, his nearness making my heart sing until he lets go. “I thought you might appreciate having it before Wilric’s funeral.”
I stare at the chair. I still won’t be able to move myself, but it will give me less shame than having to be lugged around. “Thank you. Again.”
“We’ll have a servant push you. Inkga could even do it. It’s not the same as walking, but it may give you some freedom.”
Or the illusion of freedom.
It’s more than being transported on a litter and not being able to get off it. This way, I’ll be a little more respectable.
Still want to stab Daros for doing this to me, though.
I shove thoughts of him away. He can wait until we’ve mourned Wilric properly.
The guarded hope Nash and Inkga watch me with makes me want to hide. I can’t be happy. Not now, anyway. But maybe I can fake it. “This will be wonderful. I’d much rather have a chair to sit in. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans in closer before pulling back. I have the feeling he would have kissed me if Inkga wasn’t in the room.
I’ve missed our stolen kisses.
“If we’re all ready, we should proceed so they don’t wait for us,” I say.
“I need to go on ahead of you, to take my place,” Nash says. “I’ll see you soon.”
Not soon enough.