The Shadow Queen

by Lee Bacon

  All of a sudden, the door flings open. In marches Prince Fred, looking like he’s just been in a fight. His clothes are rumpled and torn, stained with bright splashes of blood.

  I rush toward him. “Are you injured? What happened?”

  He casts a glance at the bloody gash in his sleeve as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Oh, this? The grand duke stabbed me.”

  “Stabbed you? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m perfectly fine. Nothing but a minor cut.”

  My voice spills out quickly, edged with worry. “Are you sure? It doesn’t look minor. There’s blood everywhere. And what about Sturmenburg?”

  “He’s been captured.”

  Behind Fred, two other figures have appeared in the doorway. The king and queen. Dressed in flowing nightgowns, they navigate a slow path in our direction.

  “This must be Kara.” The queen smiles down at me. “Our son speaks very highly of you.”

  The king brings an arm to rest on his wife’s shoulders. “Frederick has told us what you’ve done to protect this kingdom from treachery. And to save our lives.”

  The queen’s eyes rise above my shoulder. “And this must be your father.”

  Bowing deeply, Dad’s voice is weighted with respect. “It is a great honor to meet you both.”

  With the flick of her hand, the queen lets Dad know he can stand. “The honor is all ours.”

  “Is it true what we’ve heard?” The king’s eyes widen with enthusiasm. “Are you really the man known as the Elektro-Magician?”

  “I’ve been known by that name for the past three years. But thanks to these two”—Dad’s eyes pass from me to Fred—“I can finally go back to my old life.”

  “On Urth?” the king asks excitedly.

  Dad nods. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “How enchanting!” The queen shows off a radiant smile. “I’m sure you’re eager to return to your home.”

  Prince Fred and I exchange a glance. Our parents actually seem to be getting along.

  Too bad the nice moment ends so quickly.

  Out of nowhere, the conference room door slams shut. An ominous echo rings through the sudden silence. A guard at the edge of the room grabs the door handle and pulls as hard as he can.

  It won’t budge.

  He turns his bewildered gaze toward the king and queen. “It’s locked!”

  Staring into Fred’s eyes, I can tell he knows exactly who’s responsible for what just happened. And so do I.

  Just in case there was any doubt, the atmosphere of the room suddenly shifts. Like a storm moving in, a chill spreads through the air. The torches that line the wall flicker and hiss. Darkness dances against the wall and pools in the center of the floor.

  All our group can do is stand there, frozen with fear, watching as the shadows take shape.

  I never thought I’d say this, but I miss the Sorceress. The old Sorceress. The one who existed before she transformed herself into this—

  The Shadow Queen.

  Sure, that old Sorceress turned Kara’s town into a fantasy wasteland. And yeah, she made several attempts to kill or capture us both. But she was never as terrifying as she is now. A figure of pure darkness stalking across the room. Absolute evil lurks inside her inky-black form.

  “Stop at once!”

  The guard clenches his spear and charges the Shadow Queen. Bad idea. She flicks a hand toward the guard, casually, like brushing away an insect. An invisible spell pulses from her fingertips. In the next instant, the guard stops running. The spear drops from his hands. He crumples to the ground. He doesn’t move again.

  My trembling glance passes across the rest of our group. Kara. Her father. My parents. And Xyler. We have the Shadow Queen outnumbered, but I doubt that’ll help. Not when she’s vastly more powerful than us.

  There’s a pounding at the door. The crowd in the hallway doing everything they can to get inside. It’s no use. The Shadow Queen’s magic holds the door firm.

  There’s no way in.

  And no way out.

  “Did you really think you could escape me?” The Shadow Queen’s voice booms against the walls of my skull. “From the moment you returned to the palace, I’ve been watching. You can’t run from the shadows. They’re everywhere. I am everywhere.”

  Her dark, featureless gaze turns to me. I feel my knees weaken.

  “Prince Frederick,” she says. “I watched as you snuck into your parents’ chamber. As you brought them back to life. As you defeated Grand Duke Sturmenburg. And I let it happen.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “Why?”

  “Because I no longer need the grand duke. He served his purpose. He did my bidding while I gained strength. But I never intended to share the throne with him. Or anyone. Soon I—and I alone—shall rule Heldstone.”

  My father steps in front of me, shielding me from the Shadow Queen. “The people of Heldstone will never accept you as their queen!”

  “The people of Heldstone will have no choice!”

  The Shadow Queen points at my father. An invisible force heaves him off the floor and tosses him across the room. He lands in a heap on the floor.

  “Evil witch!” Mother yells. “You shall pay for—”

  In the blink of an eye, the Shadow Queen extends her arm. Mother’s voice ends in a strangled gasp as a dark hand closes over her throat.

  “Stop!” My own horrified scream echoes across the room. I thought I’d witnessed my parents die once today. Seeing it a second time is unbearable. “Let her go! I’ll do whatever you want!”

  Without releasing her grip, the Shadow Queen turns to me. “Is that so?”

  I nod. “Please, just don’t hurt her.”

  The dark figure gives this a moment’s thought. And then opens her shadowy hand. Mother collapses to the ground, gasping for air.

  “Very well. Allow me to tell you what I want.” The Shadow Queen sweeps toward me as she speaks. “I want to keep you alive long enough for you to watch your parents suffer before they take their last breath. Then, and only then, I will kill you. And as for your friend…”

  The dark gaze shifts to Kara.

  “This is what I want from you, little girl. I want you to take me to the door. The door to Urth. And before I put an end to your insignificant little life, you will see me begin my conquest of your world.”

  Even with the dark figure towering over her, Kara clenches her hands in defiant fists. “I’ll never help you.”

  “Of course you will,” replies the Shadow Queen. “Because that’s the only way I’ll let your father live.”

  The boldness fades from Kara’s face. She whirls to face her father, who is standing beside a stone table that’s covered with all manner of tools and equipment. His hand is resting on a strange box that looks as if it has been patched together from scrap metal. A telescope pokes out of one end like the barrel of a cannon.

  “Don’t listen to her, hija.” Mr. Estrada grips the box tighter. “She’ll never succeed.”

  The Shadow Queen lets out a mocking laugh. “Of course I will. My power is unsurpassed. I told you already: The shadow is everywhere. Nothing can stop it.”

  “Except the light,” says Mr. Estrada. With these words, he flicks a switch beside the box.

  All of a sudden, his strange invention begins to glow.

  So that’s what Dad’s been working on all this time. The world’s strongest flashlight.

  From the telescope’s lens, a beam of light blasts across the room. It’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen. All the items he added to the box—lightbulbs, homemade batteries, mirrors—are channeled through the telescope. The result is a solid ray of illumination that shoots out of his box like a missile.

  And hits the Shadow Queen right in the chest.

  “RAAAARGH!”

  The Shadow Queen lets out a howl of pain. She lurches away from the beam, but Dad’s response is immediate. He swivels the box, keeping the dark figure in his spotlight. No matter wh
ere she goes, the illumination follows her. The floor, the wall, the ceiling.

  The shadow curls in agony. Her head twists in Dad’s direction. Her pleading wail rips across the room. “MAKE IT STOP! PLEAAAASE! JUST PUT AN END TO THIS CRUEL MAGIC!”

  “It’s not magic.” Dad’s jaw clenches. His grip on the steel box is firm. “It’s science.”

  “I CAN GIIIIVE YOU SOOOOO MUCH MOOOOORE!” As the shadow writhes, her pleading voice distorts, each syllable stretching until it’s on the verge of being ripped apart. “YOUUUU CAAAAAN RUUULE HELLLLDSTONE ANNNNND UUUUURTH!” A flicker passes across Dad’s features. And in that moment, I catch a glimpse of something inside him. The others may not have noticed, but I’m his daughter. I can tell.

  There’s some part of him that’s actually considering her offer.

  A shock runs through me. But in a way, it shouldn’t come as a complete surprise. Dad’s always had an oversized ambition. This is the same guy who moved to another continent, who started a new life in a new culture. Three years ago, when he discovered the miniature doorway, the portal to Heldstone, he took that risk, too. He ventured into a completely different world.

  Now he has the opportunity to grasp ultimate power.

  I take an unsteady step toward him. “Dad?”

  At the sound of my voice, he turns to me. All at once, his expression changes. He shakes away the temptation.

  But in the half second of distraction, the Shadow Queen jolts free from the light’s beam. One dark arm reaches for me. I stagger backward. My vision fills with a pitch-black hand. I can feel the evil magic seeping into me. My eyes, my mouth, my skin. Crawling into my lungs, wrapping around my bones.

  My insides turn to ice.

  Everything goes numb.

  My heart stops.

  Falling and falling and falling and…

  And a blinding light pierces the Shadow Queen.

  And she releases her grip.

  And life blinks back on inside me.

  Breath suddenly fills my lungs again. I hit the floor, gasping for air.

  When I open my eyes again, I see the shadow pinned into a corner. Dad lifts his invention off the table. The momentary flash of uncertainty has vanished. Now his resolve is firm. He carries the box forward. One step at a time. Closer and closer. The light drills into the twisted form of darkness. The shadow barely even resembles a human any longer. More like a dark mass of screaming and thrashing. A shriveled arm. A shrinking body. A withered head.

  The Shadow Queen’s wails fade.

  When he’s directly in front of her, Dad comes to a stop. The illumination burns through the final remnants of darkness. Until the shadow vanishes. Completely gone. At last, the Sorceress is dead.

  A month passes.

  The Sorceress is gone. Grand Duke Sturmenburg is locked away in a heavily guarded prison cell, awaiting trial for treason. Life in the Royal Palace is returning to normal.

  Or…almost normal.

  There have been a few changes around here. These days, Mother and Father allow me to practice my swordsmanship with the knights—as long as I finish my lessons with the Royal Tutor first. Also, they’re much more likely to listen to my ideas. Like my recommendation for Countess Francesca. She has been officially appointed diplomat to Stonk. For the next several years, she’ll be living in the most remote corner of the kingdom, far from her snotty friends—and me.

  That’s not the only change. The Royal Palace has also gained one very big (and very green) new resident.

  “Groo!”

  My voice echoes across the courtyard, where the troll is tending his garden. Chickens roam freely through the rows of seedlings that have just sprouted. Groo smiles up at me.

  “Your Highness!” he calls out. “Thanks again for letting me move here.”

  I jog toward him. “Of course. I’m just glad you were willing to leave the cave.”

  Groo shrugs. “Well, I did put a lot of work into the place. But then the farmer and his wife found out I’m not really dead. They wouldn’t leave me alone. Villagers kept showing up with sharp pointy things and hard clobbering things and flaming hot things. It got annoying.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Plus, now I have lots more space for my organic garden!” The troll’s eyes gleam with pride.

  “Moo.”

  Our conversation is joined by someone else. A cow that just poked her head out of the stable.

  “Gerta?” I stare at the cow in astonishment. “What’re you doing here?”

  She flicks her long eyelashes. “I live here.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful. But…why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Your parents wanted it to be a surprise. After Groo told them about what happened at the farmhouse, they insisted on bringing me here.”

  I wrap my arms around Gerta’s furry midsection. She gives my ear an appreciative lick.

  “Gerta’s cheese really is the best,” Groo says. “Plus, she can help me plan my free-range chicken habitat!”

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” My gaze shifts from the cow to the troll. “Both of you. We’ll have to chat more soon. But at the moment, I’m late for a meeting.”

  Waving goodbye, I jog the rest of the way across the courtyard. Throwing open the palace doors, I enter an opulent hallway. Around the next corner is the Hall of Kings.

  The walls are lined with gold-framed portraits of my ancestors. Those who came before me, those who share my name. Men remembered by history for their bravery and honor. There is King Frederick the Fierce, thrusting a sword as he leads an army into battle. And King Frederick the Giant Killer, facing down a monstrous creature that towers above him. And of course, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, better known as King Frederick the Bold. In his portrait, he’s wrestling a bear, just for the fun of it.

  “Ah, Frederick! Just in time!”

  Mother waves to me from across the room. Father stands beside her, an arm wrapped around her slender waist.

  “We were just about to unveil the newest portrait,” he says.

  “Can we make it quick?” I ask. “Don’t forget, we have that meeting soon.”

  “Of course,” Mother replies. “But we think you’ll want to be here for this.”

  My parents turn their attention to the wall, where a new painting has just been hung. Its canvas is hidden behind a purple silk sheet. The artist stands nearby, his smock splattered with paint.

  “Are we ready?” asks the painter.

  Mother and Father reply at the same time. “Ready!”

  The artist grabs hold of the sheet and pulls. All of a sudden my jaw drops. I find myself looking back at…

  Myself.

  It’s a painting of me. Hanging here in the Hall of Kings, among all my great ancestors. My blue eyes stare confidently out from the canvas. In one hand, I’m grasping a sword. In the other, I seem to be holding a shiny black device.

  “Wait, is that…” I point an uncertain finger at the painting. “A Self-Own?”

  My father nods excitedly. “We wanted something that would represent your journey to Urth. And from what you’ve told us, everyone there has a Self-Own.”

  “The last time he visited, Mr. Estrada gave us his old one,” Mother says. “He said it didn’t work anymore because of a dead nattery.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “You mean battery?”

  “That’s the word!”

  “We gave it to the artist,” Father explains. “And he incorporated it into your portrait.”

  Mother looks from one version of me to the other. The boy in the painting and the boy standing beside her. “Don’t you like it?”

  “I do,” I say. “It’s just…unexpected. This is the Hall of Kings. And I’m, well—not a king.”

  “Not yet,” Father points out.

  “We know it’s rather early,” Mother continues. “But after everything you’ve done for the kingdom—”

  “And for us,” Father adds.
<
br />   “The time was right.” Mother pats me on the shoulder with a bejeweled hand. “Even if you’re not yet a king, you’ve earned your place in history.”

  At the bottom of the frame is a gold nameplate. Leaning forward, I peer more closely at the words that have been inscribed into its shiny surface.

  Emotion wells up inside me. I do my best to look princely and dignified, but I can’t pull it off. A huge grin splashes across my face.

  “I’m honored. Thank you.” I turn from the artist to my parents. “Honestly, I could stand here and stare at myself for hours. But we should probably be going.”

  “Of course,” Mother says. “Mustn’t be late for our meeting.”

  Father is already sweeping in the direction of the doorway. “I can hardly wait.”

  We hurry down a long corridor, up a spiraling staircase. Servants bow as we pass. Turning a corner, I nearly trip over a big, slobbering pile of fur.

  Robbie.

  The dog grins up at me, tail wagging. “Hiya, Mr. Prince! Wanna play fetch?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t at the moment, Robbie,” I say. “But if you’d like to join us, there might be fetch where we’re going.”

  Robbie nods eagerly. Drool splatters my shoe. “That sounds awesome!”

  And we’re off again.

  Soon we reach our destination. The Chamber of Wizardry. Back when the Sorceress used this space as her evil workshop, the door was nearly always closed. Locked. But now that this room has a new occupant, the door is wide open. And the Royal Wizardess looks as if she’s expecting us.

  “Greetings,” Desmelde calls out.

  Xyler weaves between her ankles. “Just in time.”

  Mother looks around expectantly. “Has our visitor arrived yet?”

  “Not yet.” Desmelde waves us through the doorway. “Come inside.”

  The Chamber of Wizardry is a much more inviting place now. Within days of her arrival, Desmelde had her assistants clear away every last remnant of the Sorceress. Leering gargoyle statues, books of dark spells, all manner of wretched poisons. Now the walls are lined with concoctions intended to help, rather than harm. Remedies for the kingdom’s most common illnesses, a potion that boosts farmers’ crop yields tenfold, water purification serums.