Winter Queen

by Erica Marie Hogan

  “Hush.” Krow stroked the top of her head. “You are all right. That’s what matters.”

  “She must ride with you, Krow,” Adlae said wearily. Leaning heavily on her staff, she rose to her feet. “I have taken the Frostling magic from her, so it may never enter her again. Without the magic, she will not be able to use the Paths on her own, but if you carry her, she may stay with us.”

  You’ve done well, Adlae. Winter’s smile filled her heart. To take another’s magic upon yourself is a heavy burden, but the Frostling magic will only strengthen your own. She is the first of many lives you will save.

  “I will take comfort in that, then,” Adlae whispered back, bending her forehead gently against Starlight’s neck. The mare’s hooves shifted, a short snort trembling her nostrils. Adlae smiled, stroking the animal to soothe it.

  “Winter Queen.” Krow’s voice beside her brought her around. His hot hand on her arm pained her, but she didn’t let him see. “I wish to ... thank ... you.” He winced when he spoke the words, and she almost laughed, tightening her lips to hide her amusement.

  “There is no need, Krow.” Adlae lifted herself into the saddle. “Hold her carefully and do not let her go. The journey ahead will not be easy, but there is no more time to waste.”

  “Your Majesty!” Glaydin shouted, the hiss of swords releasing from their sheaths echoing in the empty woods.

  Adlae twisted, looking over her shoulder. Her heart nearly stopped as the darkness fell upon the Path. Billowing black clouds rolled toward them.

  The Abyss has come to the Gracian Wood, Winter said breathlessly. What are we to do now?

  Adlae’s hair lifted from her shoulders, the harsh wind attempting to knock her from her saddle. The cloud upon the Path grew darker. The horses whinnied, shifting nervously on the stones. Adlae winced, stroking Starlight’s neck lightly. Glaydin sidled close, easing his wide, curved blade from its scabbard. Adlae took a deep breath, backing Starlight away from the cloud.

  We cannot fight the Abyss. There are dangerous creatures in that cloud. Winter nudged her, but Adlae shook her head.

  “Wraith Spawn?” Glaydin hissed.

  “There are many evil creatures in the shadow of the Abyss,” Adlae answered. “Not all Wraith Spawn.”

  “Can we shield ourselves?” Navaria’s voice startled her, and she turned. The little woman was sitting up against Krow’s chest, her eyes gleaming beneath her veil. She seemed completely revived, her strength returning rapidly now the Frostling magic had been taken from her. “Surely the magic of the Path will overcome this evil?”

  “I don’t know.” Adlae’s chest expanded with a long breath. “It is so dark. I do not know this magic.”

  “We can go around,” Krow suggested.

  Adlae shook her head. “If we do, we will not reach my sister in time. We have wasted too much time already.”

  “Then we must pass through the shadow,” Navaria stated, drawing all eyes. “If you can create a shield, I can anchor it with fire.”

  Adlae’s brow rose. She could almost feel Navaria’s smile beneath the veil over her surprise. Krow was whispering something in her ear, but she didn’t respond, merely patted his hand lightly. She could feel Krow’s tension from where she was, and Adlae couldn’t help wondering what he’d said.

  “You understand the risk. We take our lives into our own hands the moment we step into the darkness. The Path’s magic will not diminish. We will be quickened by the Frostling magic, and we do not know what evil awaits us in the shadow.” Adlae looked at each of them in turn.

  Glaydin simply dipped his head. Navaria turned to Krow, touching his face lightly before she shifted in the saddle. Lifting her hands, she raised them palm up toward the sky. Adlae’s breath caught when the flames crackled and formed, coming together from Navaria’s palms to float in a single azure blaze between her hands.

  Adlae had never seen fire magic before, but Navaria handled the foreign sorcery with ease; her entire body glowing with the strength. The magic was a part of her, a piece of her soul which could only be seen when wielded. Navaria turned in her direction, and Adlae realized she was waiting for her.

  Let the magic come, Winter whispered to her. Let the staff guide you. Remember, it is a powerful thing you hold in your hand, Adlae.

  Tilting her head back, Adlae looked to the sky, raising the staff directly above her. Allowing the magic to flow through her, icy and sweet, she watched the shield lift—clear as glass, shimmering like crystals, swirling toward the sky before parting, falling in a dome around her and her companions. Adlae looked to Navaria, nodding once.

  The woman raised the flame between her hands before shooting it out. Heat flooded her and Adlae grunted, feeling as though someone punched her in the ribs. The flames sizzled and cracked against her shield, spreading until disappearing in a blue tint over the shield. Adlae’s hand was fused to the staff, she couldn’t move her fingers as ice curled from the pole around them. Moving forward, the shield followed her, and Adlae smiled.

  “May the Creator be with us,” she murmured. “There is no turning back now.”

  Together, they rode into the shadow.

  Almaër Dominÿe. Damari growled, spinning to slam her sword into the post. The blade embedded itself deeply, the wood splintering and creaking when she yanked it back out. What does that mean? How is it even possible? I am NOT one of the Mountain People!

  Damari grumbled under her breath, grazing her thumb along the dulled edge of her sword. She’d run from Navaria like a frightened child the other night, covering her ears to stop the echoing of the woman’s voice in her head. Until then, Damari had known exactly who and what she was. But now, Navaria’s words plagued her, and she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what to believe.

  Because believing Navaria meant believing her entire life was a lie. With a snap of her fingers, the boy ran eagerly forward, a smile curving his lips. The servants always seemed happy when she called for them, glad to do as she wished. Damari knew they did so because they suffered at the hands of Raphaela. Nothing they did was right; everything they did was worthy of punishment. Damari sighed, sliding the sword back into its sheath before handing the weapon over to him.

  “Take this to the swordsmith immediately. See that the blade’s sharpened well and cleaned,” she ordered.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” The boy bowed low before scurrying away with the sheathed sword.

  Damari turned from the post, lifting the kerchief from her belt to wipe sweat from the back of her neck. Everything had gone according to plan, despite Raphaela’s awareness of Adlae leaving the city. Damari didn’t know how her sister had known the Winter Queen departed, but whatever she’d felt sent her brother’s guards marching through the city and along the wall.

  Fortunately, the Queen and her companions had already entered the woods by the time her brother’s soldiers pursued them outside the city walls. None of them would dare enter the forest, not even if her brother commanded, and he never would. Damari was thankful she’d escaped, hope filling her that she would be able to save Mirae Sundragon after all. But most of all, she was thankful Navaria Lightmaker was out of Sunkai.

  Damari shivered, buffing her arms as she took the stairs two at a time. Word was spreading like a forest fire through the city, proclaiming the Winter Queen to be Adlae Sundragon, the true heir to the throne of Nfaros. The news had ruffled some feathers in the Blood Keep, especially her sister’s. Roderick was strangely silent on the subject, locking himself away in his chambers with his council—particularly with Lathan Jandry. Damari paused on the way to her chambers, tilting her head thinking of what they could possibly be talking about all this time. Was it a plan to capture Adlae? Was there a plot already in motion to intercept her on the Path and kill her? If that were true, then there would be nothing Damari could do.

  Nothing but proceed with my plan to get Brae an
d Noelle out of the city. Damari straightened her shoulders, quickening her steps down the empty hall.

  The low murmur of voices coming from inside her sister’s door sparked her curiosity. Damari leaned close, recognizing Raphaela’s voice almost immediately—light and sweet; the deceptive tone Damari knew so well. She always sounded this way when she wanted something or when she was up to something dreadful. Damari bit her bottom lip before she stepped forward, leaning her ear to the crack in the door to listen. She clasped her hands together tightly, frowning as she strained to hear. The first thing she made out was the click of Raphaela’s slippers on the stone as she paced from one end of the room to the other.

  She must be putting on a show of nervousness for someone. Damari sniffed, rolling her eyes.

  “... I think only of her protection, Lieutenant,” Raphaela whined. “You know I would never do anything to hurt Brecken.”

  Damari held her breath. She’s talking about Brae?

  “How many men?” Lathan’s voice surprised her, and she placed a hand to her mouth to cover her gasp.

  “A small troop, six men at most.” Raphaela’s pacing stopped. “Brae Jandry will not fight, I’m sure. They are not arresting her, merely escorting her to the Blood Keep for her safety.”

  Damari’s heart raced; the blood drained from her face.

  “I will send the men to you,” Lathan agreed.

  “They should bring your little niece to the Keep as well,” Raphaela murmured. “This is the safest place for her, with the streets in such a state of unrest.”

  “I trust you will give them their orders, Your Highness,” Lathan replied. “They will obey.”

  Damari turned quickly, rushing down the hall to her bedchamber. There was no time to think about what she was going to do. She needed to act. If Raphaela had pulled Lathan into her schemes, then he would carry out whatever orders she’d given as quickly as he possibly could. He was a loyal soldier, and if Raphaela had convinced him she was doing this for Brae’s own good, then he wouldn’t hesitate to give her as many soldiers as she desired.

  Damari hurried into her bedchamber, stopping there only to snatch her cloak, bow, and quiver before leaving once more. If she went now, she could collect her sword from the smithy herself.

  I have to get Brae and Noelle out of the city. Now.

  Brae wove through the crowded marketplace, her face grim as she listened to the whispers. Nearly two days since Adlae left, and the city was alive with whispers of her survival. But they also whispered of the darkness which had fallen over the Gracian Wood the day after she entered. Rolling in like a storm; black clouds shrouding the once beautiful forest. Brae wished now she had gone with Adlae. She wished she was with her now, to know she was alive. To know the darkness hadn’t taken her and her companions.

  By the Creator’s Hand, let her be all right. Brae shuddered.

  “Are you all right, Mama?” Little Noelle whispered against her ear. “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m fine, little one.” Brae reached back, gently stroking her daughter’s curls.

  “You’re sad again,” Noelle commented. “Papa and I always know when you’re sad.”

  “You have that gift, yes?” Brae laughed softly. “You always know how to cheer me too, don’t you, my love?”

  “Only if you let me.” Noelle rested her chin atop Brae’s shoulder.

  Brae shook her head. Noelle sounded just like Brecken. Neither of them knew how to draw her out when she was reluctant to speak. But her daughter was too little to understand what was really happening. She didn’t understand the world was changing—that a new future was on the horizon for all of them.

  A smile threatened on her face as Brae stopped at the corner, just before the stairs leading to the Lower Village. The markets opened in the High Village this morning and Brae had woken early to see the wares before they were snatched up by the nobles, causing the prices to rise. Brae nodded to the merchant behind one of the stalls, watching as his hands moved with lightning speed to weave the rug. He must’ve been from Quintaria; only they were bold enough to work in front of their customers. She ran her hands over the fine rugs and bolts of material he had on display, her fingers lingering on the tassels of an intricately weaved red and black rug.

  The king’s colors. A lump lodged in her throat, stopping her breath. She drew back her hand as though she’d been burned.

  Suddenly, fingers closed around her arm, and she spun, gripping Noelle tighter against her back. Brae took a deep breath, calming her racing heart. Damari’s thick blonde braid lay across her shoulder emerging beneath the deep hood of the cloak, and her light eyes pierced Brae. A quiver full of arrows and a bow were strapped to her back, the hilt of her sword peeking from beneath the edge of the cloak. Brae frowned at how heavily armed she was.

  “Damari,” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  “We have to go now,” Damari said, her voice trembling, revealing her fear. “Raphaela is sending men for you. She says for your protection, but we both know that’s not true.”

  Brae’s eyes fluttered closed, her heart battering her ribs. Damari grabbed her sleeve as Brae turned Noelle from her back, cradling her carefully in her arms. She bent her head to her daughter’s hair, breathing deeply of its flowery scent to calm herself.

  “Brae, they’re coming even now. We must leave!”

  Brae’s eyes shifted, darting back and forth as her heart told her what to do. She’d already known what must be done, but her mind was warring against it. Holding her daughter tighter, she soaked in her warmth, relishing this last moment with her before she lifted her in the space between her and her friend.

  “Take her, Damari,” Brae whispered, passing her daughter into the arms of the princess. Damari’s eyes widened, and she clumsily gathered Noelle against her chest. “Get her to safety.”

  “What are you doing?” Damari shook her head. “Brae, what’s happening?”

  “You will travel faster with just her.” Brae’s hand trembled as she stroked her daughter’s hair.

  “Come with us! I am supposed to save you both, Brae!” Damari’s eyes glistened beneath the shadow of her hood.

  “There is no time, and she is light to carry.” Brae leaned in, kissing Noelle’s forehead. “Listen to Princess Damari, Noelle. She will keep you safe.”

  “Come with us, Mama,” Noelle sniffled, clinging to Damari’s neck.

  “I will find you one day, my sweet girl,” Brae assured her, half-heartedly.

  “My lady,” the merchant hissed at her side without looking up from his work. His voice startled her, and she jumped in his direction. “The soldiers are coming.”

  “Go, Damari! Go now!” Brae pushed her toward the alley and Damari turned, her cloak billowing as she rushed down the stone steps to the Lower Village. She looked over her shoulder once, and Brae smiled, nodding her encouragement before she forced her eyes away from the woman who was taking her daughter far out of her reach.

  Brae started to turn when the merchant’s hand reached out, grabbing her wrist. She frowned trying to pull away, but then he placed her fingers on something. Brae looked up into his eyes as she curled her hand around the cold hilt of a sword, hidden beneath his bolts of cloth.

  “Long live the Sundragon,” the man murmured. “Long live Brae, Sword Maiden of Sunkai.”

  A small smile tilted her lips. Tugging on the string of her cloak she let it fall in a heap to her ankles before she turned, pulling the sword loose with a loud hiss. She felt as if she’d never put one down, so easily she balanced the weapon in her hands. She turned, swinging. The guards drew back as she thrust the blade, her stance tall and sure, her arms still strong from years of work.

  Years of motherhood. The thought spurred her on, and she charged, her sword clattering against the weapon of one of the guards. He recoiled, fending her off like an annoying fly
before he backpedaled away from her, his back arching away from the tip of her sword.

  “Don’t do this, my lady,” one of them said as they circled her. “Put the sword down and come quietly. No harm will come to you.”

  “I will not be a prisoner to Raphaela Kael!” Brae shouted. “Kill me first, if you even dare try!”

  She lunged again, her blood racing and heart pounding. This was a dance she’d almost forgotten; a dance of survival which was ingrained in her soul for all the years of her growing up. Her father taught her well.

  Lifting the sword, she turned in a full circle, swinging the blade over the top of her head before it crashed against the soldier’s shield. She shoved him back, and she knew by how easily he backed away he wasn’t resisting. She knew she couldn’t win this fight, but she would make them kill her if she had to, no matter how they didn’t fight back. She turned, fending off one who tried to approach her quietly from behind.

  The ring of their steel connecting echoed down the streets as people scattered, some stopping to watch while others hurried into their homes, out of sight. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck, soaking into the collar of her dress. None of them made a move against her unless she launched herself at them. They were waiting for her to tire. They were waiting for her to give up. They did not know her.

  I am Brae Sundragon. I don’t give up!

  “Stop this!” A familiar, masculine voice bellowed down the street. “Put down your swords now!”

  No. Not him! Brae closed her eyes, her knuckles turning white where she gripped the sword. When she turned again, he was there, standing behind the two men in front of her. He was in uniform, his long black cloak billowing in the breeze. He looked like he’d been running, his hair disheveled and his chest heaving with deep breaths. Lathan looked like his brother, and Brae was pained to see him now, standing beside her enemy—ready to help them if need be.

  “Put your sword down, Brae.” Lathan stepped through the circle of men, holding up his hands. “Princess Raphaela has ordered these men to escort you to the Blood Keep. She has no intention of imprisoning you.”