The Shadow Queen (Ravenspire)

by C. J. Redwine

  Irina’s voice rose. “You have chosen death.”

  The catwalk creaked, and then Leo was behind her, moving quickly across the brewery’s roof, staying low and hugging the chimneys for cover. Lorelai followed, her stomach churning as Irina’s voice echoed across the alley below them.

  “Nakhgor. Kaz`prin. Find the ones I seek.”

  A light as brilliant as fire shot into the air, arced, and then plunged deep beneath the alley’s cobblestones.

  Lorelai’s palms blazed with heat in response. She grabbed Leo’s hand and yanked him forward, their boots sliding dangerously against the brewery’s shingles as they fought to get to the next catwalk.

  “Nakhgor,” Irina shouted as the cobblestones shook violently.

  Lorelai and her brother reached the catwalk that led to the harness maker’s workshop as long jagged cracks split the cobblestones beneath them.

  Sprinting across the catwalk, Lorelai scrambled up the harness maker’s roof and half slid down to the other side, Leo right at her heels.

  “Kaz`prin.” Irina’s voice filled the air. The cobblestones cracked and crumbled as her spell gained strength. “Bring them to me to face their punishment.”

  Lorelai was halfway across the catwalk that led from the harness maker’s to the weaponsmith’s when a score of thick black vines exploded out of the ground.

  TWELVE

  LORELAI FROZE ON the catwalk, Leo right behind her, as the vines of Irina’s spell burst out of the cracks in the cobblestones, rushed toward the buildings, and plunged through windows and doorways, leaving shattered splinters of wood and glass on the ground. The shops shook, joints creaking, as the vines surged forward, scouring the insides for anyone foolish enough to be hiding from the queen.

  The catwalk shook as well. Lorelai braced herself and looked back to meet Leo’s gaze.

  They weren’t going to make it to the apothecary’s. They weren’t going to get help for Gabril. She absorbed the blow and swallowed against the grief that thickened her throat.

  She couldn’t save Gabril, but she could still save Leo.

  Her voice nothing more than a breath on the wind, she said, “Stay with me, Leo. Don’t fall behind, don’t veer off course, and don’t look back. Just stay with me, and I’ll protect you.”

  His voice shook at the edges. “We’ll protect each other.”

  More vines exploded out of the ground, but instead of rushing toward the buildings, they shot straight up until they were nearly eye level with Lorelai. The band of fear around Lorelai’s chest felt like it might crush her as the vines hung in midair like muscled snakes with serrated leaves. Slowly, they turned, each bulbous end lifting slightly as if testing the wind, searching for its prey.

  Lorelai took a frantic gulp of air, her gaze glued to the vines, her body trembling. These weren’t the snakes from her nightmares. These weren’t the things that had killed her father, and yet the screams she heard in her dreams seemed to echo inside her head as she watched the vines twist in the air.

  Leo wrapped his hand around hers, his grip steady. He nodded at the path in front of her, and she slowly nodded back, pretending she didn’t hear screams inside her head. Pretending she could breathe past the panic.

  Lorelai took a single step forward and then froze as the vines closest to the catwalk swung toward her and cocked their heads. Like they could hear her. Like they were waiting for another sound to give them her exact location.

  The band of panic around Lorelai’s chest felt like it was crushing her, and her hands were burning with magic she didn’t dare let loose. She reached for Gabril’s voice, for the instructions he’d mercilessly drilled into her over the past nine years.

  Don’t get caught.

  The band loosened a little as she focused on the goal.

  Be unexpected.

  Irina thought she was hunting a few rebellious villagers. She had no idea what Lorelai and Leo, even without magic, were capable of doing.

  Use your surroundings.

  Rooftops. Catwalks. Chimneys. Pipes.

  Vines.

  Lorelai catalogued the options without taking her eyes from the snakelike things that were still facing her, waiting for one wrong move.

  Fear still clutched at her, but Gabril’s voice had broken through the worst of it.

  Lorelai looked at her brother, who was staring at the vines with fierce determination on his face, and added one more instruction to Gabril’s list.

  Save Leo.

  Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Lorelai met Leo’s gaze and then looked pointedly at the solid square chimney on the weaponsmith’s roof. If they could sprint to the chimney and hide behind it as the vines struck, they’d have a few seconds to get to their next hiding spot before the vines could strike again.

  She hoped.

  Leo nodded. Lorelai tensed, practiced the run in her mind once—leap from the catwalk there, plant her foot there, avoid that loose shingle there—and then she sucked in a deep breath and ran.

  The catwalk screeched in protest as Lorelai sprinted, Leo right at her heels.

  The vines whipped toward the pair and struck, slamming into the iron catwalk, wrapping around it, and tearing it from its moorings with a deafening shriek of metal being ripped asunder.

  As the catwalk disappeared beneath their feet, they lunged for the weaponsmith’s roof. The second her feet touched the shingles, Lorelai raced forward, her boots flying over the rooftop, her eyes on the chimney. Behind her, Leo took a running leap and was knocked to his stomach by the vicious swipe of a vine.

  “Roll!” Lorelai yelled as she slammed into the chimney, grabbed it for balance, and then watched, her heart pounding in terror, as Leo heaved himself to the side seconds before a trio of black vines burst through the roof right where he’d been lying.

  “Get up!” She ducked, and a vine smashed into the chimney where she’d been standing, scattering shards of brick. The vine wrapped itself around the chimney, its bulbous head whipping from side to side as if looking for her before snapping its black jaws around the hem of her coat. She shrugged out of the garment and leaped to the side as another vine burst out of the workshop below her and began slithering over the roof. A quick glance at the path between the chimney and the next catwalk made her stomach sink.

  The roof was crawling with vines. Their thick black skin made a hissing noise as it scraped across the shingles. Soon, the entire roof would be covered, and there would be nowhere left to go.

  “Run!” Her brother lunged past one questing vine and then ducked beneath another as he struggled to reach Lorelai. Blood seeped from a cut on his face. “Lorelai, run!”

  She wasn’t leaving him behind. Jumping over a vine, she reached for him as the vines that hung in midair began writhing, swaying toward each other until they touched and fused together to create a new vine—twice as thick, twice as strong.

  As the new, thicker vines fused together once again, Lorelai reached Leo, who was struggling to his feet, the reckless light that usually gleamed in his eyes replaced with fear. Wrapping her gloved hands firmly around his, she hauled him toward the last open space between the chimney and the catwalk.

  “She’s making one large snake thing,” Leo said as they stumbled and slid toward the next catwalk. “I give her points for flair, though black is a dull color choice.” His voice shook, a blend of bravado and terror. He clung to Lorelai’s hand, steadying her when she needed it, and using her as his anchor when his feet began to slip.

  “Don’t look back.” Lorelai assessed the catwalk, her heart pounding as beneath the hiss of the vines behind them, the building groaned and shuddered. “Just run.”

  “This is the last building on the street. We’ll have to jump and run the rest of the way on the ground.”

  “Stay with me,” Lorelai said as the hanging vines finished fusing together and became an enormous, monstrous thing as wide as the weaponsmith’s shop and nearly twice as tall. “Go!”

  They ran, feet pounding over the
iron catwalk as the vines behind them hissed and snapped and the enormous thing in the alley stretched toward the sky, its skin sounding like fabric tearing as it doubled, then tripled in size.

  Lorelai’s boots hit the roof of the next shop, following instantly by Leo’s. She was already running, heading for the chimney as the vines behind them ripped the weaponsmith’s apart, rending wood and brick like they were paper and scattering the pieces to the cobblestones below.

  Leo rushed to her side, and together they skidded down the eastern edge of the roof while the vines burst into the building beneath them. “Hurry!”

  The monstrous thing above them writhed and stretched, its bulk casting a long shadow across the rooftops of Nordenberg. Beneath their feet, the shingles buckled and cracked as smaller vines pushed their way through the shop and onto the roof.

  Lorelai reached the roof’s edge first and launched herself into the air. She rolled as her feet touched the ground, and came up to find Leo right beside her. A short distance away, vines snaked across the alley, rushing toward them in the shadow of the monster that now towered over the entire village.

  “I never thought I’d be grateful for all the land sprints Gabril makes us do,” Leo said.

  “Nakhgor. Kaz`prin,” Irina shouted, her voice raw with power but edged with weariness.

  “She’s tiring. We just have to outrun these things a little longer,” Lorelai said, and hoped she was telling the truth. Maybe Irina’s magic stopped when she grew exhausted from the strain of overpowering the heart of Ravenspire for her own uses.

  Or maybe her magic, once unleashed, took on a life of its own.

  They ran toward the edge of the village, their boots pounding the cobblestones as the vines closed in behind them, hissing and writhing with incredible speed. Leo held himself back, keeping pace beside her, his brown eyes wide as he glanced over his shoulder to assess the towering threat behind them. Buildings flew past, and Lorelai could see the sloping meadow of wild grass that hugged the village entrance, and beyond that, the line of trees that seemed like a beacon of safety to the princess.

  They’d hide in the trees. Wait out the remnants of Irina’s spell, and when it was over, they’d do what they’d come here to do: go to the apothecary’s and find medicine for Gabril.

  They were almost to the gate, almost to the meadow, when Leo cried out and stumbled to a halt. Lorelai whirled to find a vine wrapped around his ankle, its serrated edges slicing through his trousers and drawing blood.

  “Leo!” She grabbed the dagger from its sheath at her ankle as another vine slammed into her, sending her skidding across the cobblestones. She rolled to her left before it could wrap around her arm and sent the dagger sliding toward Leo. He snatched it and stabbed at the vine’s bulbous head. A viscous black liquid foamed out of the vine, over his glove, and onto the bare skin of his wrist.

  He screamed, a terrible wail of agony that sent a shaft of desperate panic into Lorelai and had the magic in her hands blazing. She lunged for him, dodging vines and buckled cobblestones. Slipping her hands beneath his arms, she pulled with all her might.

  He slid toward the gate.

  The vine slid with him, its grip unchanged by the gaping wound in its head. The black liquid wrapped around his wrist and burrowed in, a shackle beneath his skin.

  The monstrous vine that towered over the village trembled violently and then, with a tremendous crack, unfurled hundreds of glistening snakelike tendrils that arced through the air toward the edges of the village.

  “Oh no. It’s a cage.” The air felt too thick to breathe as Lorelai’s pulse pounded against her skin in frantic beats. It was a cage, and it was going to trap them here with Irina if Lorelai couldn’t get them free. Digging her boots into the ground, she pulled with all her might. Leo slid closer to the gate as the vine around his ankle stretched thin. “We have to leave now. Help me, Leo. Push with your feet. Slide back.”

  The black in his veins spread over his collarbone, heading for his heart. The truth was a heavy stone in Lorelai’s stomach. She couldn’t save him without using magic.

  If she used magic, Irina would know. She’d come for Lorelai and stage a battle Lorelai had no idea how to win. Lorelai would probably die, but Leo didn’t have to. She’d use her magic to send him into the forest, far from where she would be facing the queen alone.

  It didn’t matter what she had to sacrifice. It only mattered that she save Leo.

  She let go of him and reached for her gloves. Something whipped around her waist and flung her away from Leo. She struggled, trying desperately to keep the head of the vine from biting her.

  Trying desperately to reach her brother.

  The vines overhead moved faster.

  “Go.” Leo’s voice was weak with pain, but the look he gave her was fierce. “Get out of here.”

  “I can’t . . . you’re trapped. I can’t pull you free.” Her breath was a ragged sob of desperation as she tore at her gloves. As the vine around her snapped its teeth toward her heart.

  The black liquid beneath his skin spread to his veins and turned them black as well. The snakelike bars of Nordenberg’s cage reached the top of their ascent and hurtled down toward the village border.

  “Leo!” She stopped fighting the vine and stretched her arms toward her brother.

  The vine sank its teeth into her chest and shrieked in agony as her blood touched it. It hissed and released her, slinking back, its gaping mouth sizzling as if it had swallowed acid.

  The cage streaked toward the ground.

  She ran for Leo on shaking legs and smeared blood from the wound in her chest onto the vine that held him.

  It let go.

  “I’ve got you, Leo. Come on.” Scooping her arms beneath his, she pulled with all her strength, and he slid toward the gate.

  Almost there.

  The vines dropped down with a hiss.

  She sobbed out a prayer to the heavens and staggered out of the gate with him seconds before the falling vines slammed into the ground.

  She pulled him back a few more steps before stumbling, the pain in her chest a throb of agony that turned her knees to water. Breathlessly, she said, “Can you run? Or at least walk? We have to get away, Leo, and I need you to help me.”

  He was silent.

  “Leo?” She laid him on the meadow grass and dropped down beside him.

  The blackness in his veins had spilled across his chest, up his neck, and into his eyes. The pulse that beat along the side of his neck was still.

  “No!” She yanked her glove off, tore at his shirt, and slammed her hand against the bare skin of his chest where Irina’s dark magic had spread across his body—a web of death that had stolen her brother.

  “Please,” she whispered, her power gathered and waiting for his heart to surge toward her so she could tell it what she wanted.

  So she could bring her brother back.

  “Leo!” She tried to push her magic into him—to find one shred of life left in him that could respond to her. That could come back to her.

  His heart remained still.

  He was gone.

  THIRTEEN

  LEO WAS GONE.

  Three simple words that tore into the foundation of Lorelai’s life and left ruins in their wake.

  Leo was gone.

  Her best friend. Her greatest antagonist and staunchest ally. Her brother, who’d believed in her with every fiber of his being.

  And whom she’d failed to protect.

  She stumbled over the bumpy roots of a sugar maple and fell to her knees. The forest was too quiet, the world too vast, without Leo in it.

  He was gone.

  Something sharp and hot surged through Lorelai’s chest and seized her throat. She curled over her knees, dug her gloved fingers into the ground, and opened her mouth in a soundless wail as tears streamed down her face. Grief swelled within her, pressing against her skin until she thought she would burst from the strength of it. It stole her voice, her breath, and
gave her agony instead.

  She hadn’t saved him, and now he was gone.

  Sobs shook her, and she let them take her. Let everything Leo meant to her cut her into pieces.

  Gone.

  Not gone . . . taken.

  Slowly her tears dried, and the awful strength of the grief that consumed her gave way to one burning thought.

  Lorelai hadn’t lost Leo.

  Irina had taken him, just like she’d taken their father.

  Just like she’d taken Ravenspire.

  Without Irina, Lorelai and Leo would be happily arguing in the castle while her father ran his kingdom with a firm and steady hand.

  Irina was to blame for the wreckage that surrounded Lorelai’s life. For the woman who’d killed her children to spare them starvation. For the mob of desperate peasants that had attacked the Eldrian king. For the death of Ravenspire.

  For Leo.

  It was time Irina paid the price for all she’d taken.

  It was time Lorelai stepped out of the shadows and became the queen Ravenspire needed—the queen Leo and Gabril had always believed she could be.

  She got to her feet, a hard, bright light of purpose burning in her heart. She was through hiding. Through with robbing coaches and cautiously working her way up to someday confronting the queen.

  She was a strategist. A planner. And she could be as daring as her brother when she had to be. Irina would rue the day she’d ever set foot in Ravenspire.

  But first, no matter the cost, she was going to save the only family she had left.

  She took off running east toward the distant campsite where Gabril lay dying.

  Lorelai stumbled into their camp at sunset the next day, her legs shaking, her body shivering since she’d lost her coat on a rooftop in Nordenberg, and her eyes burning from tears. Her boots crunched over dead leaves and brittle pine needles as she approached the tent where she’d left Gabril. It was dark. Silent.

  Miserable heat spread from her chest to her throat, and she swallowed against the grief that thickened in her throat.

  Was she too late?

  Her heart aching, Lorelai lifted the tent flap quietly and braced herself for what she’d find.