The Orphan Queen

THIRTY-FOUR

 

 

RAIN DROWNED THE fires in a matter of hours, leaving plumes of heavy smoke rising in the west for days after.

 

The city was in ruins, buildings gutted and forever changed by the presence of the wraith. Every glass mirror on the west-facing walls had shattered. Sweepers filled the streets as dawn broke, steadily removing the dangerous shards that glittered in the banners of gold sunlight.

 

Maybe mirrors weren’t so useless after all, if the wraith had broken every single one in the city.

 

When paths opened in the streets, bodies were gathered, identified, and buried. Dead wraith beasts were burned. People returned to the city and began restoring their homes and shops, and searching for missing loved ones.

 

Restoration of Skyvale would be a long, slow process, especially with winter closing in. Even the food stores in Greenstone had been demolished. But the Indigo Army was called in to help, as well as men from all of the surrounding cities and towns, and they brought food and blankets and clean water. A more than fair compensation had been promised for their assistance.

 

I wasn’t allowed out of my new apartments, and I was permitted no visitors. In the days following the battle, the only person I saw was a young maid who was terrified of me.

 

I was not a prisoner, but neither was I a guest.

 

 

I’d been writing in my notebook to calm my nerves, when a boy knocked and offered a card with a note written in unfamiliar handwriting.

 

Her Highness Princess Wilhelmina Korte,

 

Please join me at James’s bedside, located in the guest quarters of my suite. I require your assistance. Come at your quickest.

 

In hopeful friendship,

 

Tobiah Pierce

 

 

 

What did that mean? Was James better? Worse?

 

Dead?

 

I abandoned my open ink jars and left my pens on the desk, uncleaned. With only my notebook in hand, I hurried after the boy. My silver gown swished around my ankles, hampering my strides. But as visiting—or captive—royalty, and being lately identified as Black Knife, I wasn’t permitted to sneak about in trousers and a belt full of daggers. I wasn’t even given knives at mealtimes.

 

My new apartments were in the Dragon Wing, not far from Tobiah’s quarters, as it turned out. They must have wanted to keep a very close eye on me, if I’d been placed in the most guarded area of the palace.

 

The young escort knocked on a door, and when I was given entrance, he vanished down the hall.

 

The crown prince’s suite was expansive, with a parlor, a music room, and a private dining room. These were inhabited only by guards now, indigo-coated men with grim expressions and hard eyes they trained on me, as though I’d been the one to attempt to assassinate their prince. As though all this were my fault.

 

In a way it was.

 

Tobiah met me in the parlor. He wore his mourning suit, all gray, and dark circles hung under his eyes. “Your Highness.” He offered a slight bow and motioned me toward a closed door. “Please join me.”

 

I followed him. “How is James?”

 

“See for yourself.” He turned on the gas lamp, even though light shone through the window.

 

My ridiculous dress swished as I approached the bed where James lay on his back, breathing regularly. His eyes were closed, as though he were sleeping. I looked up at Tobiah.

 

“His healing is miraculous.” Tobiah offered a chair, but I shook my head. “The bolt hit his gut, but the wound is gone. No scar, even. None of the physicians can explain it.”

 

I frowned. “Can you explain it?”

 

“How could I?” There he was—the prince I disliked so much. But immediately, Tobiah’s countenance softened. He tilted his head and gazed at his friend. “I’m sorry. No, I can’t explain it. I have suspicions, but I’d rather not say right now.”

 

“I see. You said you needed my help.”

 

“Yes.” He took a long, steadying breath. “You have every reason to dislike me. I behaved as though I had no prior obligations, and I will never be able to make up for my indiscretion. Not to you, and not to Meredith. I am thoroughly embarrassed by my actions.”

 

Our time in the breezeway was the last thing I wanted to discuss. “You said you needed my help,” I repeated, colder.

 

He flinched, but nodded. “James hasn’t . . . He’s healed, but he hasn’t awakened. I was hoping you might use your power of animation. I remember seeing you use it when we were children. You said, ‘Wake up,’ and the rope immediately came to life.”

 

The room grew very quiet between us.

 

“You know I can’t.” My words came like chips of ice. “Even if my power brought true life, it would have no effect on a living man.”

 

Tobiah closed his eyes.

 

“Second, you heard the wraith boy. There will be consequences for what I did to him—consequences I can’t even imagine. Don’t you think it would be even worse if I tried to use my power on James? He’s already real. Alive.”

 

“Wil—”

 

I held my fists at my sides, barely keeping hold of my notebook. “You’ve ignored me for days, trapping me in apartments that feel smaller every hour. You’ve permitted me no visitors. You didn’t even come to me yourself and find out what I know. And when you do want to see me, it’s for something you know I cannot do. Will not. I won’t use my magic again.”

 

Tobiah glanced down at my hands; they were shaking. “Wil.” His voice was soft, almost like Black Knife’s. “What happened in the wraithland? Where did all that wraith come from? Why did it come for you?”

 

“Now you ask? It’s been days since the battle, since we knew each other’s identities. You could have asked me anytime.”

 

“I did ask you before. As Black Knife.”

 

I swallowed hard. “And that was why I didn’t tell. I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me.”

 

He stepped closer. “What happened?” he whispered. “What do you know?”

 

Outside, the clock tower chimed nine.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you.” He moved back, giving me space to breathe. “I should have come to find out what you knew, and to update you on James’s progress. I should have given you freedom of the palace and allowed you visitors. I should have realized I had effectively trapped you here, without access to your friends or anyone else.

 

“But I was caught up in everything I needed to do, because my father was just assassinated, and my city demolished by something I don’t fully understand, and—” He dropped to the foot of James’s bed, and all the breath whooshed out of him. “I suppose you know how that feels better than anyone.”

 

“When my city burned, there was someone with me, holding my hand. I wasn’t alone.”

 

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