Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  So, he hadn't known. It was not a comforting thought as it should have been.

  "No, it is not your way. You have never been heavy-handed, but sometimes there are circumstances that require a little more force."

  It wasn't Lord Wellington who had spoken, but a younger man, Lord Parker, and Bowen called him on it.

  "We do not steep to such atrocities," Bowen hissed. “You do not snuff out wickedness with wicked deeds. We have always been above such things."

  Lord Wellington stood, but he was no threat for Bowen, who was bastard-born but could best all the men here and likely all at once, and Bowen didn’t even spare him a glance.

  "Our methods have not worked. I will not be made to abandon the city again, to see our country ransacked because we have decided we are the nice ones."

  I snorted.

  I wouldn't have gone that far. I felt far from nice, beating back a small group of town soldiers without even one magic-user among them, and I said as much.

  "You sent me, the crown prince, and Lord Bowen to handle country boys who would not know magic if they were being drowned in it, and then one of your loyalists burnt down the whole damn place accidentally on purpose. It sounds to me some of you are likely scheming.

  Of course, they were always scheming.

  "It looks that way to me, too, your highness," Bowen said, and when he glanced at me, then it was as if he was stabbing me with a knife for my own good. "Perhaps you should consider sitting out the next campaign to keep an eye on them."

  Bowen was a bastard, in far more ways than one. How dare he suggest I stay behind, when he knew I detested it. And I couldn't even deny that he was right; that someone did need to keep an eye on them. I just wasn't as convinced it had to be me.

  "How dare you insinuate that we have anything but the council's best interest at heart," a man shouted from down the table. It was Daniel's uncle, and his words made my chest ache.

  I knew damn well he did not approve of me.

  "We could never—" Bowen began, but his words were hollow before being sliced off.

  "At least Camden is as bloodthirsty as they come," Wellington said, as though he was paying my cousin a compliment, but to me, it was anything but.

  "Yes, a warrior through and through," another voice added.

  Wellington smiled and nodded his head. He looked every bit the spoiled child who thought he was getting his way.

  "Yes, I do think Prince Camden will be more than willing to run all our enemies into the ground.”

  What was awful was, I knew he was right.

  Chapter 4

  I was in bed. Someone was knocking on my door.

  When I was a child at the fair that came into the Capital every year for my grandfather's birthday, a fortuneteller told me that when people dreamt of knocking, that it meant the dreamer was in want of a fresh start. A new door. At that age, any door away from my life in the castle would have done.

  But this was not a dream.

  I glared at the door as soon as I cracked my eyes open, as though it had personally offended me. No servant would have knocked. Whitney or my nurse would have entered quietly, or loudly, depending on what the situation called for. Anyone else would have left whatever they came with by the door.

  I shuffled across the floor and considered if it was worth drawing a blade for dramatic effect or punctuating the threat of harm that I'd have to issue them to avoid any future morning disturbances.

  I tried to push my power beyond the door to sense who it might be without violence. However, it was asleep as the rest of me was, and I was never anywhere near as good at it as Bowen.

  Camden stood sheepishly at the other side of the door when I near ripped it off its hinges. He looked rough but bright.

  "Get dressed," he told me, but he was looking over his shoulder.

  "Did you just get in?" I asked. "You're a mess, go clean up, sleep off the trail, then we'll talk." Camden was shaking his head. The lights were out in the entire corridor, the early morning darkness was thin, but lingering.

  My cousin still had blood on his clothes, and when I was about to point that out, to be afforded a little more sleep, he pushed his way into my room.

  It wasn't frightening, and I didn't even consider it to be inappropriate, but I knew there would be some who did. I wrapped my arms around my thin nightgown, but Camden paid me no mind.

  "Something was queer about Huron," he told me.

  A lot had been weird about Huron, and I wondered how much he knew, but he wouldn't let me ask. Camden was already pacing the space between my bed and the fireplace like a lion in a foul mood.

  "So few men, and not a bit of power anywhere among them. It was like they sent me to slaughter lambs, Cassie, like I'm not a prince, but a hired brute."

  He was furious at some unseen foe, but mostly at himself.

  Lord Wellington's wicked grin sparked into my vision then. I wondered how hard Camden would rage if he knew what had been said about him yesterday.

  It was no lie; Camden was a warrior and a mighty one. That did not make him a barbarian, and I was glad he saw through the situation. I was glad he hated what was done.

  "And the city..." I prompted.

  "Marcus Langley is married to Lord Wellington's niece, I believe," Camden said.

  That explained why Camden hadn't even let him utter an excuse for his horrific actions. His words would have been nothing but pretty lies, and he wouldn't have been swayed by one of them.

  I stoked the fire in my hearth back to life without even moving, but Camden threw a log into it for something to do with his hands.

  "I shouldn't be surprised that snake had something to do with this, but why, why waste resources?” Camden said. “They're the cheapest rats I know."

  And wasn't that the truth. You couldn't get them to spend a willing copper on infostructure. Yet, they'd willingly send the Flame Bringers and a pointless crusade for a meaningless show of power. Only people wouldn't be telling about how The Fire Kingdom had won a gallant battle, they'd be saying how we slaughtered a whole city in cold blood.

  We deserved far worse.

  I should have realized the council was up to something, but the fire in my blood had bid me to go. Perhaps I was the brute. Perhaps we all were.

  "You've only just got in, we should get some food in you," I said lowly, steering him back toward the door.

  "I got something from a cart on the way into town," he mumbled, but he was thinking about something and paying me no mind.

  It should have been a shock, the town open for business this early. Yet, as the army marched back, banners blazing, you wouldn't want to miss the golden opportunity to make a silver from men who had been earning without the ability to spend anything. There was almost unlimited gold in Camden's pocket, anyway, primarily where food was concerned. It was a far cry from how we'd snuck into town the day before.

  Camden was a large man with big-and-broad shoulders. In features, he looked very much like me, only sharper. Our fathers had been brothers, who had married sisters, so we weren't so very much different in looks or tempers. Out of all our relatives, though, only our mutual grandparents and his mother survived—and that woman detested me.

  It wasn’t like she was the only one.

  "Well, I’m sure you can eat again, and I need food,” I said. “If you're expecting me up at this hour." I pointed toward the door. "Now get out so I can get dressed."

  Camden's smile flashed, but he flew out the door as it blinded me.

  I pulled on my favorite fighting pants and blouse. I didn't even glance at the mirror as I ripped my fingers through my bedhead before hastily plaiting it.

  Camden was leaning up against one wall as I ran out.

  "Women take ages to get ready," he lamented.

  I didn't know what the poor bloke would do when he wed if he thought my getting ready took forever. I hadn't even bothered with proper attire. I couldn't have gotten into any of my court dresses without help, and I didn't wan
t to wake anyone else, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask Camden.

  He was one of my oldest friends, and though we were closely related by blood, it wasn't enough to keep rumors at bay. And there were some who were even for the match, despite our being related.

  I rather hoped our kingdom wasn't turning into one of those places.

  The castle was more alive when we reached the center of it. All we had to do was plop ourselves into the plush chairs of the main table, and we were almost immediately served. I supposed these people had also known the Flame Bringers were back, and with that, Prince Camden's appetite.

  Before the first spoonful had even been dished out, cackling hens appeared in the corners of the room. A whole flock of them.

  Court ladies, looking to catch Camden's attention. If they'd asked my opinion on the matter, I'd have told them they'd have a better chance if they drew a blade. As it was, he ignored them when taking extra helpings of ham. There were six of them, in shades of red and blue, and not one of them so much as made Camden glance up from his breakfast plate.

  But then the door opened again.

  I expected to see another flock of chicks, maybe even better dressed and brighter eyed than the first, having taken longer to arrive.

  I was not prepared to see Daniel.

  He wasn't as broad as Camden, or even as dark and handsome as Bowen, but he was mine. Red colored the tips of both his thin cheeks and his eyes were tucked behind sandy brown bangs. It was as though he was embarrassed to be caught gazing at me, and knowing him, he was. Daniel thought he wasn't good enough for me, but I thought he was better than the whole of the kingdom.

  "My lady," he said. "My Prince."

  "Daniel," Camden smiled, finally looking up, "join us!"

  I cringed. Camden must have known, and now everyone did, if they hadn't already.

  I flicked my gaze at anything to avoid looking at either of them. I wanted Daniel to stay, but that might complicate things. I stared at the banners on the far wall. I stared at the intricate flower arrangements I knew my grandmother had helped arrange herself by hand. Then I glanced back at Daniel in time to watch him try and mutter an excuse.

  Clearly, he'd come looking for me without realizing I had company.

  "Nonsense." Camden brushed off his excuses. "I've been meaning to speak to you, anyway. I've heard it's a banner year for crops, and I want to hear all about it."

  Camden called a servant to set another place for Daniel. Camden didn't give a damn about crops. He wouldn't know the difference between a carrot and a sweet potato in the field or on the end of his fork, but crops were what Daniel did, and Cam knew that.

  Daniel was always really excited about the idea of talking about plants. I knew more about the best yielding variety of corn in the Fire Kingdom than I would have assumed possible six months ago. Yet Daniel made my heart ache in such a way, I'd gladly listen to it all a hundred times more.

  "It's been a wet season," Daniel explained.

  "Ah, yes, water is good for plants,” Camden said. “Which explains why I can't even keep the potted ones alive."

  Both he and Daniel laughed, and it was better than I expected.

  This was good for them. If I had my way, and If I could stay alive, they'd be family one day. I'd have to thank Cam later for making the effort.

  I glanced back at the flock of women on the other side of the room. I hoped Camden would find someone to love as well, but it didn't seem that it would be any of these ladies. They must have realized it, as well, because most of them looked quite wilted as the sun rose. Perhaps they just weren't morning people, either.

  I'd missed a whole conversation.

  I jerked my head back, but thankfully neither man was waiting for an answer from me.

  "I must speak to my cousin, dreadful business, you know, but after that, I'm sure she'd love to have your company. She's mad at me for waking her up so early." Camden laughed.

  I'd already rose from the table, my chair squealing madly.

  Even I was embarrassed as I walked out the door, Camden behind me as if we were both a little too good for this place.

  Only I didn’t feel good as he led me into the hall, and up half a flight of stairs before deeming a strange landing the place to confer with me.

  "What?" I hissed, as he looked about the landing, including behind a pair of golden curtains.

  If he didn't start talking, I was likely to take up the vase in front of the large glass window we were parked in front of and bash him over the head with it. Of course, everyone had watched us go, and they were all curious. Court ladies were nothing but spies in silk.

  "There's something wrong with the council," he finally said.

  "There's a lot wrong with the council," I near-shouted back. I chewed the hollow part of my cheek. I hadn't decided how much to tell him of what happened yesterday, and I didn't like being cornered about it before I was ready.

  I opened my mouth to change the subject but stumbled over my words. Before I could pluck the right ones out of my still-groggy head, a scream sounded from up above.

  Camden drew the blade from his side. It was, thankfully, devoid of blood. He might need a bath, but he never neglected his sword.

  Fire sprang from my fingertips with a low roar, and that was the only sound I made as we climbed up to the next landing.

  It was identical to the one we'd just been on. Curtains. Vase.

  But where Camden and I had stood at a safe distance conversing in hushed tones, the man and the woman here were pressed together. It was not consensual.

  Lord Wellington, the snake, held Whitney against one beige papered wall. She was thrashing wildly and pulling at the curtain tassels. I considered ripping them from her hands just to wrap about the snake's neck. So, this was who had harmed Whitney, I had no doubt of it.

  I raised my fiery hand above my head, thinking of the best way to strike him without the chance of it harming her further. She saw me then and stilled. I could see the reflection of my fire in the pupils of her eyes, but Wellington hadn't noticed me yet. I said the word, but Camden slugged him first.

  Chapter 5

  Losing his footing, the great snake stumbled to the ground. Unfortunately, he was only out for a moment. Fire streaked from his left hand in angry, shooting sparks.

  Whitney's eyes were wide as she stared back at me, her face was gaunt. She looked not as though we'd saved her, but that we'd made it so much worse. A strange fear raced down my spine, not for me, who was in striking distance of Lord Wellington, but for Whitney, and what would happen to her when we weren't around.

  "How dare you?" Wellington shrieked.

  His face below his greasy mustache was a strange shade of red violet. It clashed with the curtains awfully.

  "You’ve yet to see me begin to dare, Wellington. Is your money not enough to sway all the women you could want? Must you stoop to forcing yourself on them as well? Do you think it's deserved one way or the other?"

  The smell of breakfast was wafting up the stairs—that along with what I just saw was making me near ill.

  "Don't answer that," Camden said as Wellington stammered. "We already know what a sleaze you are."

  "Whitney, wait in my room for me, would you?" I said, pulling her along. When we were far enough down the stairs, I whispered, "And lock the door behind you."

  I thought of Daniel, who was probably waiting for me in the dining hall and added, "It might be a little while. Maybe take a bath or lie down a moment.

  Whitney was still shivering, but it grew worse as she tried to shake her head no. No, she did not want to do that.

  "I couldn't do such, Miss. It wouldn't be proper." She was near tears, I noticed, and she was trying to hastily blink them back. I knew the look all too well.

  "Would it help if I commanded you to do it?" I asked.

  She shook her head more violently.

  "Please." I tried once more.

  Whitney stopped and looked at me strangely for a moment.
r />   "I will admit, I have never been very proper, and I don't wish to start now. Do as I ask, for, in this case, it's what is best for you."

  Her eyes were wide again, but she raced down the corridor away from me, and I had no doubt that she was planning on doing exactly as I wanted.

  Which was perhaps what she wanted for the first time in her life.

  Camden was still arguing with Wellington on the landing. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but the lord brushed past me moments later. The purple had drained from his face, as well as his thick neck. He smelled of brimstone and there were deep scorch marks on both of his shoulders. Camden usually kept his temper in check better than that, and when he didn't, he tended to release it with weapons or fists, not magic.

  When Camden came to join me again, he took the stairs with his long legs, two at a time. True to form, he'd just threatened a man with bodily harm, and his hair wasn't even mussed.

  "I believe we have more problems than I anticipated," Camden said lowly.

  He glanced around, but though I could hear soft noises coming from the dining hall, we were probably better out in the open like we were. There were no shadows to be hidden in, no doors to press ears against.

  "I know we do," I agreed.

  He took me by my elbow and pulled me closer. Our hair was the exact shade of chestnut, the strands brushed together like a carpet of gold thread. "And what does Grandfather say?"

  How was I to tell Camden that Grandfather was fading? That just the sight of him made me ache. I'd lost my own parents at such a very young age that he was the only father figure I ever had. Only now, I hardly knew him. He was what was left when a fire had almost burnt itself out, and I didn’t think it was possible to stroke those flames again. He was tired, and he was old.

  I just shook my head. I didn't know what to say, and I knew to say the wrong thing would very likely make it worse.

  I should have struck an alliance with Cam then. I should have told him that when he was king, that I'd still be there for him. That we could always be a team. His bloodlust had never extended to me, he'd want that. The thought might even have comforted him, but I couldn't say the words. I couldn't even comfort myself.