Read The Shadow Queen Page 12


  “I thought you were going to die.” His voice shook.

  For a moment, his worry, his desperation, felt like love, and Irina let the warmth of it touch her. But then the burn of her magic surged through her veins, and she struggled to move her arms. To sit up.

  Gently, he slid his arms beneath hers and lifted until she was propped against her pillows. She looked away from the searing intensity of his gaze as the magic spread down her arms and warmed her hands. He sat down on the sheets beside her, placed a finger beneath her chin, and gently turned her face toward his.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Maybe it was the unfettered devotion in his actions or the fact that he was the one person she’d never had to bespell to ensure his loyalty. Whatever the reason, Irina found herself saying, “I’m so tired.”

  He ran a hand through her hair, tugging gently at the tangles he found. When he reached the base of her neck, he cupped it with his hand and squeezed the tension away.

  “You overworked yourself,” he said quietly. “You always do. You act like if you delegate too much, the kingdom will fall to pieces.”

  She smiled a little. “I have you to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  His eyes darkened. “The spell you did in Nordenberg . . . that was an enormous outpouring of energy, and it cost you so much.” His voice cracked, and he looked away as he drew a deep breath.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine. You keep using your magic as if there’s no cost demanded of you, but there is. There is and I can’t . . . you almost died, Irina. I almost lost you this time.” He was back to searing her with his gaze, and an uncomfortable sense of guilt heated her cheeks.

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “How would you know? You’ve been unconscious for three days. Three days!” He pulled sharply at his already crooked collar as if it was choking him. “Your heartbeat was irregular. Your breathing grew so shallow the second day, the physician told me to have the maids pull out the black crepe to make mourning bands for the staff.”

  “Well, he was wrong. Remove him from his post and—”

  “He wasn’t wrong.” The finality in his voice silenced her. “You expended so much energy and caught one boy. Was it worth almost dying?”

  “I had to.” She found the strength to sit up straight and leaned toward Viktor until she could feel the warmth of him against her skin. “Viktor, I had to. The rest of the village was loyal to me. They were ready to help me find the mountain girl. But this boy ran. Why would he do that if he wasn’t going to warn her? If he didn’t think she was the princess? I’d lose her and have to start all over, and I can’t. If Lorelai is alive, I have to find her and destroy her before she tries to destroy me.”

  Slowly, so slowly she could’ve moved away if she’d wanted to, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Her body swayed toward him, finding a home against his chest where she fit perfectly within the circle of his arms. Warmth that had nothing to do with the burn of magic rushed through her, sparkling like champagne in her veins, and she grabbed his mangled collar and pulled him closer.

  He made a rough noise, tilted her head back, and kissed her with a desperation he only ever showed her when they were alone. Gone was the calm, unflappable Viktor who managed the castle’s affairs with a steady hand. In his place was a man full of fierce longing and need who kissed Irina like she was the air, and he was drowning.

  For a few heartbeats, she let herself feel it. Let herself believe it. This could be hers. All she had to do was say the word, and she wouldn’t be alone.

  She wouldn’t be alone, but there would be a price for that. There was always a price. Her father, who loved her sister best, had taught her that. Her uncle, who crushed her dreams by breaking Morcantian protocol that stated the eldest daughter was to be married first and letting Arlen have Tatiyana for his bride instead of Irina, had reminded her. And Lorelai, the little princess with the power so like Irina’s own, had carved that lesson deep into Irina’s heart with the knife of utter betrayal.

  She pulled away from Viktor.

  He looked at her, the desperate longing still raw in his eyes, and said, “What do you need? Just tell me what you need.”

  Her fingertips itched. Her palms burned. The memory of Lorelai’s betrayal obliterated the warmth she’d felt while kissing Viktor, and the awareness that tingled at the edge of her power rushed forward.

  Lorelai.

  “Bring me my mirror, please.”

  The moment her palm touched the mirror’s surface, magic sparked from her fingertips and the swirling gray depths of the mirror began to move faster. Her hands shook, her skin clammy as she gave the command.

  “Mirror, mirror, your depths I scry,” she said as power gathered in her palms and leaped toward the glass. “Show me the princess Lorelai.”

  The white light of her magic spiraled into the swirling gray of the mirror, and suddenly there she was—lying on a blanket inside a tent, her eyes closed, a black man with his back to the mirror bending over her, and an enormous gyrfalcon perched just inside the tent’s entrance. Her skin was as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, and her long hair as black as ebony.

  “Lorelai,” the queen whispered. She looked up at Viktor, her voice shaking. “She’s alive.”

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  ..................................................................

  FIFTEEN

  KOL STOOD ON the balcony of his room in Ravenspire’s castle and stared at the midnight sky. How was Brig faring without him? How much ground had his army lost to the ogres while he’d been gone? The council hadn’t sent word for him to return, so he had to believe the ogres had yet to threaten the capital, but that could change in an instant. His people needed saving, and so far his desperate mission to get help from Queen Irina had been a spectacular failure.

  He couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain without a specific scent to follow. The trip to Nordenberg had been as terrifying as it had been unproductive. It was one thing to know he was dealing with a mardushka of extraordinary power. It was another to see it in action.

  All that power, however, had been for naught. No princess caught in the queen’s web. No scent for Kol to track. And at the end of the spell, Irina had simply collapsed. He’d been ensconced in the visitor’s wing of the castle for days now with no word on when Irina would be well enough to meet with him. In fact, judging by the somber looks on the faces of the maids and pages who served the Eldrians, many in the castle no longer believed Irina would recover at all.

  Which meant Eldr and everyone in it was doomed.

  He began pacing the stone balcony, his eyes tracing familiar constellations in the sky above. Did his sister wander her balcony at night staring at the stars while she worried over him?

  Did his people fear their second-rate king had abandoned them in their time of need?

  Most important, could he come up with a plan to save Eldr that didn’t involve Irina before the ogres destroyed what was left of his kingdom?

  The cathedral bells tolled the hour—twelve strikes of a hammer against the bells. Twelve reminders that Kol was running out of time. Eldr was running out of time.

  Maybe he could go to Morcant and beg King Milek for favor. Despite what Irina had said about mardushkas in Morcant obeying the laws restricting the use of magic, he bet he could find a price that would tempt Milek into finding a mardushka capable of helping. He doubted Milek would need reminding that Draconi were able to sniff out veins of gold and caverns of jewels buried deep under the ground. It was tantamount to agreeing to enslave himself to the king as a treasure hunter for the rest of his days, but it was better than allowing Eldr to fall.

  His friends would never let him do it. He’d have to shift into his dragon and leave the castle without a word to them.

  The thought of not saying good-bye—to his friends or to Brig—hurt, but he didn’t have a
choice. He didn’t have the energy to argue with them, especially when nothing they said would sway him. Eldr was his responsibility, and he’d made a promise on his father’s funeral pyre that he wouldn’t be a disappointment again. He refused to break that promise.

  He also couldn’t risk his friends shifting into dragons and following him to Morcant, which they would do without hesitation. King Milek would agree to loan Eldr a talented mardushka in exchange for the servitude of one dragon. He didn’t need to know there were two more potential treasure hunters at his disposal.

  Kol stopped pacing and sagged against the iron railing as a frigid breeze chased dead leaves across the wide expanse of the castle grounds. Facing the flight to Morcant alone was harder than he’d anticipated, but it was what a true leader would do.

  His mind made up, Kol unbuttoned his shirt with swift fingers and shrugged out of the garment, letting it fall in a heap on the balcony. He’d leave enough signs for his friends to realize he’d shifted and flown away on his own, rather than let them worry someone in Ravenspire had done him harm. By the time they realized he was gone and tracked him by scent to Morcant, he’d have already struck a deal with King Milek, and it would be over.

  He stepped to the edge of his balcony as he reached for his belt.

  “Going somewhere?” Jyn asked from the balcony to his right.

  He jumped and whirled to face her as she stepped out of the shadows beside the door to her room.

  “Planning to shift into your dragon and go make a deal without us?” Trugg asked from his the balcony to his left as he too stepped out of the shadows and into the starlight, his meaty arms folded over his chest while he glared at his king.

  “What are you two doing out this late?” He forced himself to sound casual, like the fact that he’d been stripping in the moonlight was of no consequence, but the looks on his friends’ faces said they weren’t convinced.

  “What do you think we’re doing? We’re guarding you.” Trugg sounded furious.

  “Guarding . . . I never instructed you to guard me.” He returned Trugg’s glare with one of his own while his hastily constructed backup plan disintegrated into dust.

  “Good thing we didn’t ask your permission, then.” Trugg stepped closer.

  “You’re our king.” Jyn rolled to the balls of her feet and shrugged out of her shirt, leaving nothing but a thin camisole and her pants. “And our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be watching over you day and night?”

  Something hot and thick rose in Kol’s throat as Trugg’s shirt hit the balcony as well. They were preparing to shift. They weren’t trying to talk him out of his decision. They weren’t arguing with his reasons. They were simply ready to throw themselves into danger because where he went, they followed.

  “You can’t come with me,” he said, and, curse the skies, his voice shook.

  “I dare you to try to stop us,” Trugg said as he dropped his pants.

  “You don’t understand.” Kol’s voice rose. “I don’t have time to wait for Irina to get better—if she gets better. Eldr needs help now. I’m going to Morcant to offer myself to the king in exchange for a mardushka capable of defeating the ogres. If you come along—”

  “When we come along.” Jyn’s pants followed her shirt.

  “If you come along, King Milek will try to enslave you in exchange for the mardushka instead of just enslaving me. I can’t allow that. I won’t. It’s my job to protect Eldr. All of Eldr. And I’m not going to fail my people. Do you hear me?” He grabbed the balustrade with shaking fingers. “I’m not going to fail my people anymore. This is my sacrifice to make.”

  “And we aren’t going to fail you, Kol.” Jyn’s dark eyes gleamed. “You think you have to be strong for Eldr, and you’re right. You do. But so do we. So does every single Eldrian threatened by the ogre invasion. You have the responsibility of saving Eldr, but we have the responsibility of saving you.”

  Kol stared at her while the thickness in his throat became the sting of unshed tears in his eyes. “I don’t need to be saved.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Trugg said gruffly. “Eldr needs a king, not another loss. And you are the king Eldr needs, even if you pull stupid stunts like trying to fly off on your own to deal with the king of Morcant because sky forbid you should ask for help.”

  Gratitude and fear settled into Kol’s chest like a burning stone. He slammed his fist against the balustrade and yelled, “If I ask for your help, I’m condemning you to enslavement in Morcant for the rest of your lives!”

  Trugg lunged forward until only the thin space between their two balconies separated him from Kol. “No, you great ugly lizard, I’m condemning myself to enslavement in Morcant for the rest of my life because Eldr needs a mardushka and a king. Now shift or shut up about this plan and go back into your room where I don’t have to worry about you.”

  A tense silence fell between them. Kol was trying to swallow past the thickness in his throat. Trying to come up with words that would shoulder the weight of his feelings, but if the words existed, Kol couldn’t find them. Trugg raised a brow and stood in his undergarment, his arms crossed over his chest while he waited for his king’s decision.

  Before Kol could choose whether to continue with his plan to petition King Milek at the expense of his friends or whether to give Irina one more day to recover from her illness, someone knocked sharply at his door.

  Instantly, Jyn disappeared into her room as if rushing to check the hallway outside Kol’s door. Trugg backed up, took a running leap, and landed beside Kol on the king’s balcony.

  “I’ll answer that,” he said.

  “I can answer my own door.” Kol decided to save himself the humiliation of trying to push past Trugg and into his bedroom first. “Besides, you aren’t wearing any pants.”

  “I don’t need pants to deal with whoever has decided to disturb my king at this unholy hour of the night.” Trugg strode through Kol’s chambers and wrenched open the door.

  Viktor stood on the other side, his hair damp as if he’d just finished bathing, and his clothing impeccable. He glanced once at Trugg’s lack of clothing and then looked pointedly over the boy’s shoulder.

  “Queen Irina has recovered and requests an audience with King Kolvanismir,” he said, his measured tone giving no indication that he was face-to-face with a mostly naked Eldrian warrior.

  In minutes, Kol and his friends were appropriately dressed and standing before the queen as she reclined on a white couch in a cozy office. A torn once-white coat lay on her lap, and her creepy snake was coiled by her side.

  “I’m pleased to see that you’re recovering,” Kol said, though pleased hardly covered it. Eldr still had a chance, and Kol hadn’t had to sell himself into slavery to King Milek to accomplish it.

  Irina leaned forward, her eyes lit with zeal. “We’re both about to get what we want, my dear boy.”

  The queen lifted the coat, and Viktor hurried forward to bring it to Kol. It smelled like burned wood, spicy evergreens, and crisp snow with a hint of something softer underneath.

  Something about the scent was familiar.

  “Whose is this?” he asked.

  Irina’s smile was fierce. “It was left on a rooftop in Nordenberg by someone fleeing my spell.”

  “How does that help us?”

  “Because the person fleeing my spell was the princess. I’ve just seen the body of the boy who was caught by my spell. It was her brother. My magic just discovered her location in the Falkrain Mountains, and now we have her scent.”

  Kol stared at the coat in his hands, his hearts pounding. Slowly, he raised his head to look at the queen. “Our blood oath still stands. I’ll bring the princess to the castle, and you seal the ogres back into Vallé de Lumé.”

  Irina’s smile disappeared. “I don’t require all of the princess, huntsman.”

  A chill raced over Kol’s skin. “I don’t understand. Our oath said—”

  “Our oath said that once you do t
he task I set before you, my magic will deliver Eldr from the ogres. The exact wording of the oath itself must be obeyed, or your blood will turn to poison, and you will die.”

  “I agreed to bring the princess back to the castle.” Kol met the queen’s gaze and worked hard to hold it.

  She leaned forward, her eyes pinning Kol where he stood. “You agreed to do whatever I asked of you. And I am asking you to bring me the princess’s heart.”

  The breath left Kol’s body, and his fists dug into the coat while his dragon heart pounded fiercely. “I can’t . . . I don’t hurt people.”

  The queen’s voice was lethal. “Hurt one person, or lose your life and the lives of everyone in Eldr. It’s your choice.”

  It was no choice at all. His kingdom was in shambles. His people were dying. Even now, the ogres could be at the capital. And if he refused, if he broke his oath, he would die, and Eldr would fall.

  Kol turned on his heel and left the room to hunt.

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  SIXTEEN

  LORELAI’S EYES OPENED slowly. The canvas ceiling of their tent stretched above her. For a moment, she expected to hear Leo complaining about how early Gabril had awakened them, but then the truth hit with a fresh wave of pain.

  Leo was gone.

  Her chest was a hollow, empty space that ached with loss, and she wanted to close her eyes again and let sleep take her.

  Wake up, wake up, wake up, please Lorelai. Please. Just wake up.

  She blinked, and tears stung her eyes as she turned to see Gabril kneeling beside her, his shoulders bowed, his face pressed into the blanket next to her shoulder. She opened her mouth to tell him that she was awake, but he was already speaking again.

  I don’t know what to do. What do I do, Ada? Leo, my precious boy, didn’t come back, and Irina must know where we are since Lorelai touched the ground. Where do I take her when I can’t carry her? How do I keep her safe now? I’m so alone.