The Caged Queen

by Kristen Ciccarelli

  And then, in spite of everything, Torwin grinned at her. It was so reckless, so brave, that Roa couldn’t help but borrow strength from it.

  Twenty

  At dinner, the table groaned with food piled high onto platters and silver pitchers full of wine. The sight made Roa ill. For years she’d watched the fields of Song turn from gold to white, watched her parents ration meals, watched her neighbors line up for handouts.

  The guests around her gorged themselves, oblivious to her people’s hunger.

  More than this, they joked and laughed as if Torwin was all but forgotten. As if he hadn’t just been hunted down like prey.

  Roa didn’t touch her food. Her appetite had fled.

  Afterward, as the guests left, Roa instructed Dax, Lirabel, Jas, and Safire to go on without her.

  “Absolutely not.” Safire planted her feet. “Are you out of your mind?”

  Dax said nothing, studying Roa. His tunic’s golden hue complemented his warm complexion. His curls had been tamed tonight, but his cheeks were still peppered with the beginnings of a beard.

  “This is my fault,” Roa told him. “I need to fix it.”

  Safire’s blue eyes were wild with worry. “How exactly do you plan on rescuing Torwin alone and unarmed?”

  “Just . . . trust me.” Roa couldn’t quite meet their eyes as she said it. She felt Dax’s gaze like a weight pressing down on her.

  “I’m coming with you,” Safire said at the same time Dax said, “We’ll wait for you in the courtyard.”

  Safire glanced at him, stunned. Something passed between them in a look, and a moment later, Safire relented. “If you take too long, we’re coming in to get you.”

  Rebekah led Roa to a different room this time. One that smelled sterile, like vinegar and cut limes.

  The moment she stepped inside, Essie flinched, shuffling across her shoulder, keeping close to Roa. It didn’t take long to find the source of her sister’s unease.

  The longest wall of this room was lined with black cages. Some stood empty, but most were full of birds—some frantically chirping and hopping from one side to the other, others who’d resigned themselves to their fates and sat warily on their perches.

  Sharp instruments of all shapes and sizes were laid out on a small table, their blades glinting in the torchlight.

  Roa brushed her sister’s wings with the backs of her fingers—as much for her own comfort as for Essie’s.

  Theo entered the room behind her, followed by Garnet and three other guards. At the sight of her friend, Roa turned sharply away.

  “I’m very glad you’ve changed your mind,” Rebekah said as she approached a wide fire basin. “What kind of terms would you like to discuss?”

  Roa stepped up to the basin, touching the iron rim. In the scrublands, every basin was engraved with prayers to the Old One. This one was prayerless.

  “Hand over Torwin and the Skyweaver’s knife to me tonight,” said Roa, “and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Done.” Taking up the steel and flint, Rebekah struck it until the kindling in the basin lit. Gently, she blew on the sparks until the twigs caught. “Tell me your plans, and you can walk out of this house with both things.”

  Roa shook her head. “Torwin is not a thing.” And she was not taking any chances. “I need assurance that you’ll hand him over to me alive and unhurt.”

  Rebekah glanced up. “A relationship can’t work without trust, Roa.”

  If her sense of danger wasn’t so heightened, Roa might have rolled her eyes. She’d sooner trust a cobra.

  Rebekah must have realized this. Because she looked wordlessly to Garnet, who left the room. Heartbeats later, when smoke began to curl up toward the hole in the roof, Rebekah stepped toward the wide window overlooking the grounds.

  “Come and see.”

  Roa joined her, peering out through the glass. In the courtyard below, the door of the house opened and out stepped Torwin, rubbing his wrists, which were no longer bound. At the far end of the brightly lit court, Lirabel, Safire, and Dax stood deep in conversation, surrounded by the king and queen’s guards. The moment they spotted Torwin, their conversation halted and they broke apart, staring at their friend.

  Safire ran for Torwin first, nearly barreling him over, squeezing him in a hug. Behind her, Dax’s lips moved. As Safire let go, Torwin shook his head, answering Dax’s question. Dax looked to the house briefly, his brow furrowed.

  “You see?” said Rebekah, returning to the basin, stacking logs onto the flames. “He’s safe.”

  Roa felt trapped, suddenly. As if Torwin going free was the key turning, locking her into the cage.

  On her shoulder, Essie ruffled her feathers and shifted nervously from claw to claw.

  Garnet returned a heartbeat later, shutting the door behind him.

  Rebekah looked up from the fire, to the white hawk perched on Roa’s shoulder. “So. You need to kill the king in order to save your sister.”

  Roa went rigid.

  Rebekah knew the hawk was her sister? Was there anything Theo hadn’t told her?

  Roa pressed her palms to the window glass, letting it bear her up. Essie’s claws dug into her shoulder, steadying her.

  “How, exactly, is that going to work?” Rebekah pressed.

  Roa swallowed. Steeling herself, she turned to face the girl at the fire basin.

  “It must be done on the Relinquishing, with the Skyweaver’s knife.” The same day Essie would resume her true form. “On that night, with that blade”—she nodded to the weapon tucked into Rebekah’s sash—“the Skyweaver will accept the exchange of Dax’s soul for Essie’s, because she died when he should have.”

  Rebekah studied her. From the look in her eyes, she didn’t believe in things like souls or the Skyweaver. But she kept this to herself. “By taking his life, yours will be forfeit.”

  “That’s what we need your help with,” said Theo from behind Roa, who hardened at the sound of his voice.

  Rebekah nodded. “As I said, my father and I have a great deal of influence in Firgaard. The court was unhappy with Dax’s revolt. They are even less happy now that he sits on the throne. If my father and I support the queen, they will too.”

  The words chafed Roa. She didn’t trust Rebekah or the court. But there was nothing she could do: she was in league with this creature now, no matter how much she hated it. This was the cost of Torwin’s freedom.

  “There will be twice as many people in the city for the Relinquishing,” Roa said. “Most of them will be masked. It will be chaos, which means Safire’s attention will be divided. You and Theo will need to use the chaos to your advantage while I . . .”

  When she couldn’t finish the sentence, Rebekah finished for her, watching Roa carefully. “While you kill Dax with the knife.”

  Roa looked away, thinking of Dax in the dining hall. Of the way he reached for her trembling hands. Of his pure rage at the sight of Torwin in the clutches of the enemy.

  And yet, just last night, she’d found his seal in the pocket of a man who’d tried to kill her.

  She pushed the confusion out of her mind, thinking instead of what she must do: cut Dax’s soul free with the Skyweaver’s knife in order to save her sister.

  Theo spoke up then. “I have fifty men on their way here. But in order to take the palace—which we’ll have to do if we stand any chance against Safire and her army—we need a way in. The front gate will be too heavily defended.”

  Rebekah’s eyes lit up. “Has Dax shown you any of the secret passageways?”

  Roa glanced up. Secret passageways? “No.”

  Rebekah tilted her head, as if this were an interesting fact she was tucking away for later. “He used to tell my father about them. There’s at least one that leads out into the city.” She lifted her hands to the fire, warming herself. “And since you’re the only one of us with unrestricted access within the palace, you’ll need to be the one to find it.”

  Roa’s grip on the iron e
dge of the basin tightened.

  “Fifty scrublanders isn’t enough to take it,” said Rebekah. “But I can triple your numbers.”

  “How?” asked Roa.

  “A great many soldiers were demoted or dismissed when Safire was made commandant. Among them are several formerly high-ranking soldats. All of them are in my father’s debt, since it was he who found them new employment; therefore every one of them will be at our disposal.” She smiled that chillingly beautiful smile. “While you find that passage, Theo and I will figure out how best to take the palace from the inside.”

  Roa looked to Theo. His face was in shadow, but the flames seemed to dance in his eyes as she spoke.

  “And if I can’t find it?” Roa asked. “If no such passage exists?”

  “It exists,” said Rebekah. “And if anyone can find it, it’s the girl who tricked her way onto the throne.”

  Roa looked to the window, realizing this plan of hers didn’t only affect Dax. It would put others in danger too: Lirabel, Safire, everyone in the palace.

  What am I doing?

  She stepped back from the basin. She wanted out of this room. Out of this house.

  “If that’s all, then I should be going. The king and his commandant are already suspicious.” She held out her hand. “You promised me the knife.”

  “There’s just one more thing,” said Rebekah.

  Something in her voice sent a chill through Roa. Essie moved closer, brushing Roa’s cheek with her wing.

  “I, too, like assurances. And since I gave you one tonight, it’s only fair you give me one in return.”

  Roa frowned, wondering what kind of assurance she needed. She felt Rebekah’s guards slip into the shadows behind her, keeping themselves between Roa and the door.

  “Now that I’m in this, I can’t have you playing both sides,” Rebekah went on. “I need to ensure you’re loyal to me.”

  Suddenly, Essie shrieked and dug her talons in deep. A heartbeat later, they were ripped away, tearing Roa’s skin.

  She cried out, spinning to find Garnet gripping Essie’s body with both hands, squeezing her wings to her sides as she fought and squirmed and tried to bite.

  Roa reached for Essie’s knife at her calf.

  “Take your hands off her!”

  When he didn’t, she lunged.

  One of the other guards held out his arm, hand fisted. Roa ran straight into it, the force of it hitting her in the chest, stealing her breath and temporarily stunning her. He hauled her back, away from her sister. Roa recovered and cracked her elbow hard against his face. The man cursed and dropped her to the floor.

  She heard Theo shout. Heard weapons drawn.

  Roa spotted Garnet, heading toward one of the cages. Essie shrieked and struggled, trying desperately to get her wings free. The door to an empty cage hung open.

  No . . .

  Roa sprang to her feet.

  Four crisscrossed swords were immediately at her throat as guards stepped in, surrounding her and blocking her path.

  Roa felt the sharp bite of steel. She halted, staring helplessly at Essie—who’d gone half-wild at the sight of her sister under threat.

  Garnet shoved Essie inside the cage. Slamming the door closed, he twisted the key in the lock.

  “No . . . ,” Roa cried as Essie threw herself against her cage. Shrieking and flying, again and again, into the bars. Roa moved to go to her, and the blades constricted against her throat. Her empty hands clenched and unclenched as she watched her sister hurt herself, then exhaust herself.

  Finally, Essie fell to the bottom of the cage and didn’t get up. Her white chest rose and fell quickly with the terrified beat of her tiny heart.

  Theo was pinned to the wall, the exposed edge of a saber at his neck. “This was never part of the deal!” he shouted, and even Roa heard the grief in his voice.

  Roa reached out with her mind, desperate to brush against her sister’s. But there was no response. Essie only stared at her.

  “I hear there are worse things than uncrossed spirits.”

  Roa tore her gaze from her sister to find Rebekah approaching the cage now, the Skyweaver’s knife unsheathed at her side. Essie glared up at her through the bars.

  “My father doesn’t just collect artifacts,” she went on. “He also collects stories. When Theo told me about your predicament, that you needed the knife, I searched his library. I found the account of something called a corrupted spirit.”

  Essie isn’t corrupted, thought Roa, shivering despite herself. Corrupted spirits were deadly; her sister’s spirit was just uncrossed.

  “The story said that if the soul of the deceased is trapped here for too long, unable to cross, it eventually becomes a horror.” Rebekah gripped one of the cage bars with her free hand, peering inside, as if she wanted to see such a thing. As if hoping Essie would turn into a monster right before her eyes.

  Roa’s chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. “Please. Give her back.”

  Rebekah sheathed the Skyweaver’s knife, turning away from the cage. “Not until I’m absolutely certain of your loyalty.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. I swear it,” Roa said. “Just let her go.”

  “Enough.” Rebekah’s voice sharpened and her eyes narrowed. “Begging doesn’t become a queen. Do as you’ve promised, and your sister will go free.”

  When the blades withdrew, Roa sank to the floor, staring at Essie. Caged. Trapped. Taken from her again.

  “The Relinquishing is five days away.” Rebekah moved slowly toward Roa. “If you deliver the location of the passage to me in three days, I’ll give your sister back.” She held out the sheathed Skyweaver’s knife in both hands. The embossed steel glinted in the firelight. “Do we have a deal?”

  Roa’s gaze locked with Essie’s.

  Everyone had a weakness, and Rebekah had found hers.

  “Yes,” Roa whispered.

  “Three days,” said Rebekah, passing her the knife. “Deliver it to me by midnight.”

  Roa’s fingers curled tightly around the sheath. It was colder than any steel she’d ever held.

  Death cold.

  The Last Relinquishing

  Every Relinquishing, when the night descended and her household gathered around the heart-fire, the girl crept into the parlor, set a candle burning in the window, and waited for her sister to come.

  She always came.

  But every time, she seemed a little less like herself.

  On the last Relinquishing, as the dawn crept in, the girl sat by the calm waters of the quarry, plaiting her sister’s curls in the dark.

  “I think I’m disappearing,” said her sister.

  The girl stopped braiding. “What?”

  “I don’t know what I am anymore. A hawk? A girl? Or something else?”

  She shivered. The girl told herself it was just the cold air.

  “I don’t know where I belong.”

  “You belong with me,” said the girl, reaching for her hands, linking them hard in her own. “You’re my sister. And a daughter of the House of Song.”

  “Am I?” She smiled sadly down at their hands. “I’ll never live in that house again. Or feel the calluses on my palms after a summer in the fields. I’ll never fall in love. Never hold my own child in my arms. But you . . . you have a whole life before you. You will grow and change while I stay the same. Forever.”

  The sun was coming up. The girls could feel the air changing. It was gold tinged and dewy now.

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in a cage,” she whispered. “One that gets smaller and smaller every day.”

  Tears shone in her eyes. The girl gripped her sister’s hands harder.

  “I don’t want to be trapped anymore,” she whispered, her face pleading. “I want to be free.”

  The next morning, when the hawk returned, three of its feathers had turned white. And when its gaze lifted, its eyes were ringed in silver.

  Twenty-One

  Every st
ep away from that room, away from her sister, broke Roa a little bit more. She’d adjusted the buckled leather straps around her calf to accommodate two sheaths: one for Essie’s knife and one for the Skyweaver’s. The Skyweaver’s knife was there now, hidden beneath her kaftan. But the cold weight of it only made her sicker.

  It had come at too high a cost.

  Now she had only three days to find a way into the palace for Silva’s men. Three days to betray Dax. And after that . . . kill him.

  With Essie in Rebekah’s clutches, there was no other choice.

  Saving her sister was all that mattered now.

  “Roa!” Theo’s voice rang out from behind her. She quickened her pace, heading for Baron Silva’s courtyard, unable to face him.

  “Roa . . . please wait.”

  Theo reached for her arm. Roa spun away from him.

  “Don’t touch me.” Her voice wavered. “Don’t ever touch me without my permission again.”

  Theo’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Roa, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s too late for that.” The damage was done. He’d given away everything.

  It was raining when she stepped into the courtyard. Behind her, Roa heard the doors open and shut as Theo followed her out.

  His footsteps halted.

  Roa looked up and found the reason. At the end of the lantern-lit path stood Lirabel, cloaked in a now-wet mantle, waiting with her horse. Roa’s guards loomed behind her. Celeste, Tati, and Saba were all mounted and ready to ride. Safire, Dax, Torwin, and Jas were missing.

  Roa walked toward her friend.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Getting Torwin to safety.” Lirabel pulled Roa’s mantle out of her saddlebag. “He needed your horse.” She flung the warm, dry cloak over Roa’s shoulders. After tying the tassels at her throat, Lirabel flipped up the hood to keep Roa’s face shielded from the rain. “You’ll have to ride with me.”

  Roa mounted up behind Lirabel and slid her arms around her friend’s waist. Roa didn’t look back to where Theo stood, watching in the rain. Instead, she pressed her cheek to Lirabel’s shoulder as they rode away from Baron Silva’s stronghold, the hooves of the other horses clip-clopping ahead and behind them.