by Ann Aguirre
My ancient desk had been reduced to splinters, but I remembered where I had hidden my seal from untrustworthy ministers. I opened a rosette in the stonework, where rested at its heart a ring graven with my mark. It had been centuries since this graced anyone’s hand. I passed it to Greydusk with proper reverence, and he fell to his knees. Chance stood propped against the doorjamb, watching with a troubled furrow of his brow.
“Rise,” I commanded the Imaron. “You chose wisely when you promised to serve me. Your word remains sufficient, now and forever. You are my second, Greydusk of the Imaron caste. There is no station higher, even should I invest you with the mantle of a knight’s power.”
Greydusk drew in a sharp breath. “You would slay the Imaron knight?”
“If he displeases me or will not swear. Does that trouble you?”
The demon displayed a toothy smile. “If he is foolish enough to resist you, my queen, then I would be honored to assume his role.”
“Once you have done my will, send runners to each of the castes. Tell them I will expect them to swear to me in two weeks.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Carry a special message to Caim. Tell him he is to attend me at once…and that he should bring a gift, lest I grow wroth.”
Greydusk inclined his head. “The human girl?”
“Precisely so. No one touches what is mine.”
True Justice
My new servants came in droves.
At first, they wanted to get a look inside the castle that had been sealed for so many centuries, and then they stayed, partly for the work and partly for the prestige of joining my court. They were the ragged and desperate, but raising them up would cement their loyalty. It wasn’t the poor I needed to fear; it was the rich and powerful who had something to lose.
Through a combination of magick and hard labor, they worked to restore the structure to its former glory, and then decorated, using the goods Greydusk had confiscated from the Saremon. Beyond the gates, the city lay in turmoil, with pockets of resistance from those who truly thought they could repel the tide of change. The Eshur remained neutral, as I’d expected, waiting to see how it all played out before they committed. From the Phalxe I received an emissary and welcome gifts, though I wasn’t so foolish as to keep them.
Never trust the Phalxe.
When workers completed renovation of the throne room, I summoned the Hazo knight Caim into my hall. Though there had been no formal coronation, I needed none. I sat on the throne with a confidence borne of birthright, and I watched his approach with a cool, quiet smile.
At length my silence unnerved him, and the enormous demon dropped to his knees on the red carpet that spread before him. “My queen, I beg mercy. The attack on your person was none of my doing.”
I let the dread in him build. “Did you return the girl?”
“Yes. She’s waiting in the antechamber.”
At my gesture, the servant beside me ran to fetch Shannon. I intended to maintain proper decorum, but as the door opened, I pushed upright. My feet moved, and then I was running. I had to see her. This was an imperative beyond politics, beyond all other considerations.
The girl was thin and pale, with dyed black hair tipped in pink. She wore all black, and she looked exhausted. But all in one piece. I stopped short of a crushing hug because some part of me wondered if she’d know me at all, a curious concern, but then her eyes widened, and she threw herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her and pushed out a shaky breath. Absurd, but I could nearly weep. That strong surge of emotion let me take over; the queen protested as I drove her back.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“You came. I can’t believe it. Corine, you don’t know what I did—”
“I do, actually. I handled your iPod.”
“So you know I’m with Jesse?”
I nodded, hugged her tight. Though there had been sacrifices, they’d been totally worth it to get to this moment. Even the time spent riding as a captive in my own body—that was worth it.
Shan asked, “How are we getting out of here? And where is here?”
“In due time,” I said. “I have your things.”
I beckoned the servant and told him to fetch her backpack. Most of the items had stopped functioning—out of charge—but it should comfort her to get them back. That accomplished, I turned and strode back to where Caim waited on his knees. I stumbled as Ninlil wrested control from me. Conflict raged as to how to judge his fate. On one hand, a show of strength might be necessary. If I crushed him for what he’d done in the human realm and his part in holding Shannon hostage, it should chasten the Hazo. But one never knew how the warrior caste would react. Instead of being fearful, they might be roused to rebellion. I tapped a finger against my cheek, studying Caim where he knelt.
“What should I do with you?” I asked aloud.
He dared tilt his face back. The demon knight was a creature of terrifying violence and basest evil—and he feared me.
The creature licked his tusks with a nervous tongue. “You cannot suffer me to live, my queen. For what I did, I must be stripped of my powers and destroyed. Otherwise all would take your mercy for weakness.”
“Queen—,” Shannon started to say, but I lifted a hand, demanding silence.
He was right. I could not begin my reign on a low note.
“Because you were bound when you attacked me, I will permit you to choose your successor.”
“I thought it might come to this,” Caim said heavily. “I brought him.”
“Then let us see it done.”
In short order, another Hazo joined us. I could tell he was younger, a little frightened at seeing the knight on his knees. It would be good if he came into his power both fearing me and in my debt for raising him up. That beginning boded well.
“Caim, you are judged guilty of treason,” I intoned. “Therefore, I strip you of your rank, your power, and your life.”
“So be it,” the demon said softly.
He had known he would not receive clemency, I thought, even with Shannon in his care, though if he had hurt her, his end would have been a thousand times as painful. I turned my attention to the other Hazo.
“Are you ready to be invested as the new knight of your caste?”
The young Hazo swallowed. “I am.”
“What is your name?”
“Zet.”
“Kneel, Zet.” Once he did, I continued the ceremony, though it had been so long since I’d performed it. “Do you swear to serve me in all things, to set my will above your own, and obey my commands without question?”
“I do so swear.”
I slammed a hand on each of their brows. Instinct, as it came back to me. The power peeled away from Caim at my touch, and my body became the conduit, funneling incredible amounts of demon magick. It occurred to me, belatedly, that there might be consequences from this. My physical form was human and had not been created for such work. Regardless, I held on, even as the connection became painful. Darklight swirled about me in jagged pulses.
Through raw agony, I maintained the link until Caim fell forward onto his clawed palms. New purpose radiated from the young Hazo knight. I turned and demanded, “A blade.”
My servant brought one that had been mounted on the wall. “Zet, as your queen, I give your first command. Take his head.”
Shannon opened her mouth to protest, but I pinned her with a look that made her step back. Her eyes wide, she gave me room to finish what I’d started. Zet rolled his head on a muscular neck and then took the sword; in one ferocious swing, he cleaved through Caim’s throat. The severed head bounced away in a spatter of blood. It was hard for me to remember why I had feared the creature. It seemed so weak and pitiful now.
“Zet, you stand as the new knight. You have proven your strength and loyalty this day. So long as you remain steadfast, your caste need fear no reprisal from me. Soon, I will call upon the Hazo in my extermination of the Saremon.”
&nbs
p; He dropped to one knee, amid the black ichor staining the tiles. “Your will shall be done, my queen.”
“Splendid. You may go.”
The young knight turned with new confidence, striding toward the double doors while barking orders to the lower-ranking demons who had accompanied Caim and Zet from the Hazo complex. Soon the throne room had emptied except for Shannon, me, and the servants already removing the corpse.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Shannon said shakily. “You look like Corine, but…you aren’t. Is this another trick? Are you a shape-shifter?”
This was complicated to explain—and she seemed to be the verge of all-out panic. I didn’t move toward her. “Send a runner for Chance,” I said to a nearby maid.
That calmed her slightly. “Chance is here?”
“He came with me to rescue you.”
She scowled at me. “No offense, but this is the worst rescue ever. You waited for them to bring me to you and you seem to be in the midst of a coup.”
“I’m doing what I must,” I said.
A tense silence resulted while we waited. To his credit, Chance arrived quickly. The consort greeted her with a half hug, and she clung to him as if to convince herself that we couldn’t both be evil shape-shifters.
“You’re safe,” he said. “Greydusk said they wouldn’t dare hurt you, if they intended to use you to make amends, but it must’ve been terrifying.”
Her head jerked in a quick nod. At once, I wanted to level the Dohan compound; they were the ones who used her as bait. But I couldn’t afford to make such a drastic move until after my first court. I needed to assess how many castes would throw in with me and how many would support the Saremon. At this point I couldn’t satisfy my personal desire for retribution; it could wait until I consolidated my power. I had a long memory.
“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable to talk.” I gestured to the throne room, which had been designed to intimidate.
“Agreed.” A shiver ran through her, but she followed me toward the study, which was smaller and more intimate.
I chose a seat in the grouping of chairs away from the desk. These furnishings had been taken directly from a Saremon warehouse. Hard not to take pleasure in that. More to the point, this should help set Shannon at ease. I didn’t expect her to take the news well, but she would come around.
After we all settled, I ordered refreshments. Chance sat beside me, his knee pressed against mine. I took more comfort than I should in his presence. I’d monitor this attachment to ensure it didn’t become problematic. Once the food and drink arrived, I summarized the situation for her.
“She’s kidding.” Her gaze cut to Chance, begging another explanation.
“Unfortunately, no.” He was no more pleased about my ascension than Shannon was.
Their reactions puzzled me. Why didn’t they want a better life? “Things are unsettled at the moment, but once I get the city in hand, it will be magnificent.”
Shannon gaped at me. “So that’s it. You’re not even going to try to leave?”
“Do you know how they opened the gate to get us here?” I asked softly.
“I wasn’t exactly in a position to check out the process, no.”
“They destroyed a human soul to get you here, Shannon. And then another, when I followed. Do you know what that means?”
“Oh, shit.” She grasped the heart of the matter right away. I felt a flicker of guilt at manipulating her this way, since the destruction of a human soul was not, in fact, why I was staying. “So to go home, we’d have to do it again.”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “No afterlife. No reincarnation. Just fuel for the gate. I’m not doing that again. I didn’t know before, when I came through. I do now.”
“So you figured while you’re here, why not make the best of it?” She tried a smile, but her heart was breaking.
It had just dawned on her. No more dreams. No Jesse. Nothing but Sheol and Xibalba until the day she died.
“I’m sorry. Ultimately I’m the reason you’re here. And I wouldn’t have chosen this for you.”
“Well, you didn’t choose it either. You only came because of me—and that means a lot. Obviously I’m not okay with sacrificing some poor bastard either, just so I can go to college and have some kids someday.”
I nodded. The human half of me had understood she would feel this way. I’d used that awareness shamelessly, and by Chance’s expression, he knew. But he didn’t comment on my management of the situation. He only stared at his hands.
Shannon went on. “I only wish there was some way for me to get word to Jesse. I’m not sure if you knew this, but he’s got major emotional damage.”
She went on to tell me things I didn’t care about, like how he didn’t trust himself because he could be swayed by other people’s emotional states and how he feared he’d never fall in love for real, just spend his life in a depressing spiral of serial monogamy. But I listened because I felt I should at least pretend to be like the woman she remembered, even if that person—at best—was only able to whisper from the back of my head. Eventually, she ran out of words and then she cried. I put an arm around her and Chance stroked her hair.
Finally she said, “Thanks for letting me get that out. It’s been a really shitty few weeks.”
“For us too,” Chance murmured.
Shannon nodded. “I guess nobody sets out to get trapped in hell.”
“Do you have a moment, my queen?” Greydusk stood at the study door, bearing some papers I needed to sign.
“Of course.” I read them over before scrawling my signature where he indicated—not that I didn’t trust him, but in all honesty, I didn’t. I trusted no one. That was what it meant to rule.
Shannon talked with Chance while we did our business, and then I performed more introductions. “Greydusk, this is Shannon Cheney. You are to treat her with all royal consideration.”
At first she recoiled, but I hoped she would get used to my second and eventually not view him as a monster. Things were different in Xibalba, and the sooner she accepted it, the happier she would be. Perhaps, in time, I could arrange a marital alliance with the Luren. Shannon would certainly find one of their males physically appealing, and I could appease Sybella with the offering. I had broken our agreement, but I wished her luck in enforcing a bargain that had been made, technically speaking, with a person who no longer existed.
For the remainder of the day, I put aside all business and spent time with Shannon. She ate, bathed, changed her clothes, and then I showed her the palace and grounds. Once the tour ended, I enlisted her help in decorating private rooms that had been passed over in favor of attention to the public areas, like the throne room.
“Seriously? You’ll let me have free rein on all of this?”
“Indeed. And I will need another adviser I can trust. I’ll create a title especially for you.”
“Holy shit. Okay, so let me get with Greydusk.”
I nodded. “He’ll assist in obtaining all the materials you need.”
Because she was young, she didn’t realize I had more important matters to attend to. I couldn’t spend days entertaining her, and I had to be sure she would be gainfully occupied. It wouldn’t do for her to get homesick and cause trouble. She had to stay here, safe and protected, and out of the hands of my enemies.
At my word, Greydusk escorted Shannon to the storerooms, where we had piles of unsorted goods, fresh from the Saremon confiscations. That left Chance with me in the study, and he didn’t look pleased. In preparation for an unpleasant conversation, I shut the door and took a seat behind my desk.
“You have something to say?” My tone was dangerous.
“You lied to her about why you’re staying, and then distracted her with busywork. Even though you did try to explain, I don’t think she realizes how…different you are, and when she does, it’s going to be a problem.”
“What do you suggest?” It wasn’t sarcasm. In this setting, with no witnes
ses, I’d permit him to speak his mind.
He scrubbed a hand through his inky hair. “I don’t know. I’m just worried.”
“As am I. But what are my alternatives? If I renounce the throne and devote my life here to doing good works among the downtrodden, how long do you think we’ll live? Any of us?”
“You won’t convince me your decisions are driven by altruism,” he snapped. “Poor you, taking on the whole city for our benefit? Bullshit. You want this.”
I pushed to my feet, flattening my hands on the desk. Leaning forward, I whispered, “Am I supposed to apologize for wanting things, Chance? You don’t.”
He stilled, his tiger’s gaze locked on mine. A muscle ticked beside his beautiful mouth. Even in anger I craved him.
With measured steps, I approached him and stopped short of a touch. “As I recall, you pursue your impulses beyond what’s reasonable. Or do you feel guilty because you still desire me? Maybe even…because you want me more, this way.”
“I don’t.” But there was no conviction in his voice, and he leaned toward me, just a little. Just enough.
“Power’s an aphrodisiac. You crave my certainty. Want it straight in the vein.”
“No.” But he stepped closer, nostrils flaring.
“Don’t fight it anymore,” I whispered. “Or pretend. Or lie. You’ve always secretly wanted someone to control you. Make you give everything. That’s where the primitive instincts flare. When you growl mine and go savage, you need someone who will say it back—and mean it. You’ve always been searching for the iron fist in the velvet glove.”
No. Don’t do this to him. He loves me, not you. Don’t fuck with his head.
I banished her voice with a little more difficulty this time. Silenced her protests.
Desperation flashed in his face—not because I was wrong, but because I was right—and I had him. He couldn’t resist such bone-deep need. When he bent his head, I kissed him with every ounce of possession in me. Chance swept the desk with feral hands; then it was all heat and teeth, slick, hard friction, wild as a firestorm.