Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  "Cass," a voice called from the doorway.

  Camden and I started apart, looking very much like we were up to no good. Despite that, we really hadn't been.

  Daniel stood framed in the morning light, half-in and half-out of the dining room. The sun made his hair look more yellow than brown, as his smile faltered briefly. Daniel knew better than to believe there was any of that going on with my cousin, but he no doubt knew he'd interrupted something.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "Shall I come back another time?"

  Camden had already reattached the mask he always seemed to wear. The mask of the general and prince that all his men loved.

  "Nonsense," he told us both with a wink, "My dear cousin needs some time to relax. I order you to show her a good time, and right now."

  I coughed as I dislodged my tongue from my throat after swallowing it. I had no doubt that Cam had meant that every bit as dirty as it sounded. Who said he wasn't a strategist? They'd obviously never seen my cousin when he was scheming to be deviant. Which was quite often, if I was honest.

  Daniel blushed red hot from the crown of his head down. Every space between his clothing was scarlet. "I'll do my best, your highness," he stuttered.

  I couldn't help but cringe. That sounded so terribly awkward, I had to resist the urge to run back to my room and hide behind a locked door with Whitney.

  Camden roared with laughter. He dropped his head back as if he expected to howl at the moon any minute.

  "Let's go," I said, dragging Daniel along. We had to get out of here before anymore talking could happen.

  I pulled him all the way down the corridor and sent the guards away who were guarding the door that led us outside to the gardens. I was confident they had been expecting a dismissal as soon as they laid eyes on the pair of us. Daniel loved the gardens, despite, according to him, that there wasn't one edible thing in the whole place. The gardens were magic, and a riot of color year-round. My grandmother had tended to it long before I was ever born. There was a bridge leading to a gazebo in the middle of a little clear pond in a sweeping arc.

  Together, we quietly walked across the majestic beauty of the place, but no one else was around. I let Daniel hold me, knowing it was far more for my benefit than his. I felt warmer in his arms, surrounded by water than I did in the middle of my biggest rage, engulfed in flame.

  When he'd come out of the dining hall, I'd plastered a fake smile on my face, but he was the only one who could ever turn those false things to real ones.

  "What's wrong, Cass?" Daniel pulled me down to one of the low gazebo benches. The whole place was lovely. Even the pattern of the nails connecting every wooden piece was beautiful.

  "Everything." But even as the word flew from my mouth like an off-target arrow, I could not wish to take it back.

  "I can imagine that being a very long list then," Daniel said, taking my hand in his.

  Our fingers were both rough, but they weren't the same. Daniel didn’t use fire magic. His hands were callused from working fields along with his farmhands. Not because he thought he should, but because he loved that sort of thing.

  It was at that moment I realized how cruel I was to him. He would never be happy in a castle or in a stinking town. He'd hate it even more than I would. He would hate it because he hadn't been trained for it his entire life.

  How could I do that to him? I wondered. How could I do that to me?

  Daniel had never even expected to be a Lord, but the last war had left us a lot of orphans, and a lot of childless parents, too.

  "Want to talk about it?" Daniel asked, drawing small circles on the top of one hand. There was a shiny scar on there. Camden had burned it before we knew how to rein in our fire. When we used to just let it all burn. There were times like that, times like now, where I wished that was still possible.

  "I don't know," I admitted.

  So many awful truths that I'd already glimpsed at, and the day was still so young. The sun hadn't even jutted over the low garden wall yet, and it wouldn't for some time still.

  "Maybe start from the beginning," Daniel said.

  But that was an impossibility. I couldn't begin to guess where my story began, and where it bled into the stories of those who came before me.

  I shook my head.

  "Okay," Daniel agreed, not even a hint of disapproval in his voice. I always wondered how he managed that.

  It seemed everyone else who loved me was always very critical of me. Strangely, Bowen's face flashed behind my eyes then, but I shook the thought away. He'd been a good friend and was only that way when I needed him to be.

  "How about, start with the last thing that happened? I interrupted something in the hallway just now—what was that about?"

  If there was an accusation in those words, I could find none. No, Daniel was just as good as he always seemed to be. It was no act. I think that was why every part of him could hurt me so much because I no longer knew how much of me was real. Perhaps none of it was.

  "We ran into Lord Wellington on the stairs.” I paused for a moment. “He was assaulting my maid." My fingers had curled into fists, but I kept the fire inside of them even though Daniel was looking at me as though he could see them, anyway.

  "And did Prince Camden give him a good tongue lashing?" Daniel asked as he plucked a red blossom from a flowering vine.

  I nodded my head. Of course he had.

  "Well, let us hope it resonates with Lord Worm, shall we?" Daniel smiled. It was so odd to hear him say a negative thing about anyone, but I knew there was some things he didn’t abide.

  "I'm pretty sure it was the punching him that actually got his attention, though," I admitted.

  "You know I don't really enjoy violence..." Daniel trailed off.

  Which was true enough, but also a conundrum, because he liked me, and I was violence incarnate. More so than I even wanted to be.

  "Some men only respond to those things," he added.

  If he'd spent any time on the battlefield, he'd have learned that lesson a very long time ago, but I was glad he never had.

  Daniel tucked his flower into my braid. Then he ran his fingers down my neck as if I was made of precious silk he was afraid to touch. "I'm glad I got to see you before I have to leave."

  His voice was so sad, it took a moment for me to understand what he was saying. Daniel was leaving, which he was prone to doing, but his tone told me that he wasn't planning on coming back, not for a while at least. I'd grown used to having him here when I returned from campaigns. I'd have to learn how to endure the nightmares on my own, it seemed.

  "Where are you going?" I heard myself ask. I was unsure where that thought had come from, it was a good one, important even, but I was too busy ripping myself up on the inside to even process what he was saying.

  "Back to Greenwich."

  Greenwich was the providence where all his precious farmland was, and I bit down on the inside of both my cheeks to keep from asking if he loved that land more than he loved me. Not because I was ashamed of that hot jealousy, but because I knew it was very likely true.

  Daniel saw something in my face, however, and pulled my chin up until we were mere inches apart.

  Kiss me, I tried to command, but he wouldn't do it. He never did.

  "We're at war, Cass," he said, as if I didn't know. If I hadn't been making it in fields of my very own. "We need every scrap of food we can get. Likely our trade routes will all be cut off from the south if the fighting lasts through the winter."

  So, Daniel was going back to make sure the Fire Kingdom survived in a different way than I did.

  He was gone by noon.

  Chapter 6

  I considered taking the noon meal in my room, but it seemed an awful far distance to travel just to mope. Then if Whitney found out I hadn't eaten, she'd want to work, and I was prepared to let her do that. Not yet. Hopefully, she was still exactly where I wanted her to be.

  The dining hall was somber. Half the council, the half I detested
the most, sat at the other end of the table from me hissing together in low tones. Once or twice, they tossed accusatory glances in my direction whenever they thought I wasn't looking. I took a sick satisfaction in the realization that the whole side of Wellington's face was red and swollen, where Camden had struck him that morning. I had no idea where Cam had run off to since sending me away with Daniel, but I could have used his company. Neither of my grandparents came in for the meal, either, and I was worse than alone. I was with people who hated me as much as I hated them.

  Every council member had chambers inside the castle when they were in session. Servants were provided for them, and they weren't even housed near each other. Yet, as they fled the dining room, it was apparent to me, they were all heading the same direction. Like a pack of well-bred dogs searching for a bone.

  I made a show of letting them go, but after a respectable amount of time, I headed after them. They hadn’t gone far.

  Wellington must have learned his lesson about the landings, because the lords were all tucked in a little nook off a sitting area on the first floor. Lucky for me, their sniveling voices carried.

  "King Charles is as good as dead," someone said.

  I was thankful the banister my hand was wrapped around was made of stone. That the kingdom had long since learned that we were likely to explode and made most structures out of things that could withstand fire in the city. Not like those new country homes, which were all made of smooth wood. That was asking for trouble.

  "He's old." Someone sighed. "His mind has been going for some time."

  "Well, if you ask me,” Lord Wellington said, though no one had, "he never had much of a mind to begin with. His children were both spoiled upstairs, and so are their children."

  My fire wanted to make that evil man nothing more than a pyre, but I reined it in. I couldn't allow my magic to come forth—that would certainly give me away.

  "The boy is a brute, and the girl showed promise if she'd only have consented to be a proper monarch," another voice added.

  "If she had married Bowen," the councilmember continued, "we might have held sway."

  I recoiled. That could not be true. Bowen was many things, but he wasn't in with these men any more than he absolutely had to be.

  "Please," someone countered. "Bowen might be the one person in the entire kingdom who is even harder to control than she is. What a pair they'd have been, we should be counting our blessings."

  Someone slammed a door just above my head. I knew all eyes were darting my way, and though I knew I was hidden from sight, I wasn't sure if I was protected from magic. I couldn't be certain what powers the council members possessed, even if many of them were well past their prime.

  I held my breath and willed myself further into the shadows, but I was spared by another voice.

  "Gentlemen." Bowen's voice was cutting. "I wasn't aware we were having a council meeting in the smoker's lounge."

  I suspected that Bowen had teleported right in the midst of them. What a shock that must have been. It made me curious if he had known how close I'd been to being discovered. I didn’t intend to wait around and find out, and yet...

  "I'm surprised to see you, Bowen, you must have just missed our summons. I sent three notes: one to you, the other to the monarchy. The Flame Bringer army rides for the north."

  My heart was thundering in my chest at my near-miss already, but it damn near fell out of the sky at those words.

  They were sending us out again? The Flame Bringers hadn't been back even a full day. This was madness. Someone was speaking too low for me to hear. I was starting to wonder if they were picking a future ruler based on which of us they could kill first. All while making sure the rest of the world hated us more than it already did. If such a thing was even possible.

  "Well, I hope you have managed to round up more than a few country boys for us to slaughter this trip, Wellington, I'd hate to have the last battle repeat itself. Of course, Camden knows to keep all your men away from open flame at this point..."

  I couldn't hear what he said after that, but Wellington growled.

  "Is that a threat?" Lord Wellington shouted. Brave of him, as he was already roughed up.

  "I don't make threats, Wellington, but I am rather fond of revenge."

  I started down the stairs. If I tried to escape up them, I had no doubt everyone would be wise to my eavesdropping. They'd all gone so silent that a pin could have dropped on the stone floor, and they'd have caught the echo two flights up. I was more than a little surprised to see Bowen still standing there. He was somewhat prone to using that unique ability of his to leave in a huff, but he'd have known that I was just out of eyesight. He wouldn't have had to see me to know I was there.

  "Princess," Bowen said, with more of a bow and a flourish than I suppose he'd ever given me. It was a dare, and all the other lords followed his lead. "I assume you've heard that the Flame Bringer army is to ride again?"

  He knew what I heard, but I morphed my face into a mask of shock.

  "They haven't even been back a day. I suppose they found us a real threat to handle this time? No more children playing at being soldiers?"

  Wellington wanted to light me on fire with his eyes, and he could damn well try. I was certain he worried I'd reveal his earlier conduct—it was funny he thought any of them would care. They were awful, terrible. Sometimes I'd exclude Bowen from that list, and other times I'd lead with him. At least he was loyal to us, no matter what I did to him.

  Thinking that maybe I should put my name on that awful list as well. "Shall we?"

  Bowen took my arm, and we walked down the corridor as if we weren't heading back into war.

  Three hallways down, and Bowen finally decided to speak again. I was worried he'd slipped into one of those moods where all he wanted was to read books in strange tongues and mope about. "Did they say anything exciting before I arrived?"

  He was serious, though, so it must have been sheer luck that he'd saved me from being discovered.

  It wouldn't have been the first time.

  I released his arm and stopped in the middle of a hallway. Two maids saw us there and smartly found somewhere else to be. "They said my grandfather was as good as dead, and that both Cam and I were terrible successors. Though, they must have forgotten that I’m not an option—"

  "One of the council members has petitioned to allow a female heir," Bowen said, and again, choosing not to meet my eyes.

  "You're certain of this?" I asked. But I wasn't sure if it mattered, Camden would be a great king, it changed nothing.

  "I'm certain," he said softly, his head dipping further, before he snapped his neck back, and said, "it was me."

  I recoiled. "Why?"

  I could have seen some of the other men doing it. They'd perhaps, at one time, fooled themselves into believing that, as a woman, I'd be easier to control, but they'd rightly moved past that.

  "A long time ago?" I breathed.

  That might have made sense if Bowen had any real ambition. He didn't, but if he had thought that maybe he'd end up King... no, there was not a realm where Bowen would ever be okay with that idea.

  He shook his head before turning his back to me. I knew what he was about to tell me was dreadful. Bowen was more comfortable to read than all those books he liked to carry around.

  "You know, Camden is one of my very best friends..." He trailed off.

  I did know that. I remembered being quite jealous of it. "Save it," I said, grabbing his sleeve. "It doesn't matter. Cam is going to be King. We are going to win this war as much as anyone ever wins a war. Then we're all going to try our best at being happy. All until some other kingdom wants to wipe us off the map... even you."

  Bowen didn’t seem convinced. He was never precisely the happy sort, except when we... he'd just have to find some other woman to make him feel like that. It couldn't be me, not anymore.

  "I will see you in the war room," Bowen said, but by the time I'd calmed Whitney and packed, Ca
mden and Bowen were already on the saddle.

  "I assume this means they've found us a real threat," I said, mounting my horse. One where haste would be required. The beast pricked its ears back, waiting for the call to run.

  "Soldiers are crossing the northern border now, headed this way." Camden appeared a bit like a burnt-out cinder.

  "To the Capital?" I said as the troops began moving out. "That's madness."

  "That's what we were told," Bowen confirmed. "Should I scout ahead?"

  "No," Camden and I said in unison. The ground quaked under so many hooves.

  "We arrive together or not at all.” Camden charged to the front.

  We rode for a day before making camp, and we were still at least another day’s ride away from our best guess as to where the invaders would have traveled. With poor intel, they could be anywhere. The terrain here was barren and rocky. There were no trees but short clutching spindles. There were no weeds, only tumbleweeds, as they rolled on reaching. The sunset was a fiery red orange, which we considered a good omen, but I couldn't make the positive mood of the soldiers fill the dread that seemed to grow in my chest.

  I had my own tent, but I didn’t pitch it. I declined every offer of help and dozed on and off propped against a large rock with one flat side. The sky was so vast in this part of the world that I felt as though it could crush me if I kept my eyes closed too long.

  It was one of those rough stretches of sleep that soldiers from the Water Kingdom attacked.

  Chapter 7

  They slaughtered the horses first—no, not slaughtered, drowned. The noise they made was horrible, and I could not burn off the water fast enough to save a single one of them.

  Camden had stormed from his own tent, shirtless, bootless, and blade blazing. He scanned the crowd, as they sprung away and started the messiest battle I'd ever seen. We were disorganized, our intel had been so wrong, that I could only assume it had been that way on purpose. When Camden's eyes finally met mine, a half-mad smile grew on his face like that of an eclipsing moon. In a moment, it was gone, and I'd almost forgotten what it had looked like. But in the darkness, I felt we were surely doomed.