“This is how,” Rielle whispered, “you hold your child.” She made a soft, sad noise. “Audric would have loved her.”
Then the queen’s face contorted, and she cried out in pain. She clutched her baby to her stomach and doubled over, gasping.
The stone shuddered beneath Simon’s feet. The walls of the queen’s rooms shifted in and out, like they were breathing along with her.
Rielle’s skin glowed, changing, and for a terrible moment, Simon thought he could see through her flesh to the blood and bone beneath—and to the light beneath even that. She was outlined in shimmering flecks of gold, a luminous creature of sparks and embers.
Then the light faded, and Rielle was dim and human once more.
Simon’s blood roared with fear. “What was that?”
“It won’t be long now.” Rielle turned her glittering gaze up to him, and Simon recoiled. The skin around her eyes was dark and thin. “I can’t hold myself together for much longer.”
“Do you mean…you’re dying?”
“I’ve tried so hard for so long,” Rielle muttered, and then she screamed once more, went rigid. Blazing bolts of light shot out from her fingers and streaked into the night, arcing over the dark city. The light left behind charred streaks, jagged across the terrace floor.
Rielle looked up, her face slick with sweat. Light moved in shimmering waves beneath her skin. Simon could not look away; she was at once the loveliest and most terrifying thing he had ever seen.
“Are you…hurting?” Simon asked.
Rielle laughed, a surprised little gasp. “I’m always hurting.”
“Good,” Simon replied, but not without a twinge of shame in his chest. She was a monster, yes, but a barefoot, exhausted monster with a child held tenderly in her arms.
The queen, his father had always told him whenever Simon stewed in his hatred, was once just a girl. Remember that. Remember her.
Then Rielle went very still.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “He’s coming.”
Simon backed away, alarm ringing in his ears. “Corien?”
Rielle used the wall to pull herself up, her shifting face tight with pain. “I cannot allow him to find you. Garver hid you well, but if he realizes you’re here now and what you are…”
Simon touched his back, as if that could hide the markings there. “You…you know about us?”
Rielle’s face flickered with something Simon couldn’t read. “A friend told me. Just in case…well. In case I needed to know.”
“I don’t understand—”
“And I don’t have time to explain. Hide with her; stay out here. I’ll distract him.”
And with that, Rielle pressed her daughter into Simon’s arms and hurried back into her rooms.
Simon stared down at the baby. Her dark, serious eyes locked onto his face as if he were the most interesting thing in the world. Despite his aching head and the horrible hollow pain in his gut, Simon allowed her a small smile.
“Hello,” he said and touched her cheek. “I’m Simon.”
“Here, take this.” Rielle reappeared, holding in her hand a necklace—a flat, gold pendant with a winged horse in flight carved onto its surface. On the horse sat a woman with streaming dark hair and a sword raised victoriously. Rays of sunlight fanned out behind her.
It was an image that had taken over Celdaria during the last two years, since the Church had declared Rielle to be the foretold Sun Queen.
How they had all loved her, once.
As the queen tucked the necklace into her baby’s blanket, Simon watched her quietly. “Are you sorry for what you did?”
“Would it make you feel better if I was?”
Simon had no answer.
The queen kissed her daughter’s brow. “He won’t have you,” she whispered. “Not you, my precious one.”
Then she turned to Simon and, before he could protest, brushed aside his ash-blond hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His skin smarted where her lips had touched; tears gathered behind his eyes. He felt like he stood on the edge of a swaying cliff, like a terrible thing was about to happen and he could do nothing to stop it.
“Go to Borsvall,” Rielle told him. “Find King Ilmaire and Commander Ingrid. Show them this necklace. They’ll hide you.”
The doors to Rielle’s outer rooms slammed open.
“Rielle?” Corien roared.
Rielle cupped Simon’s cheek and met his eyes. “Whatever happens, don’t let him see you.”
As she turned to go, Simon grabbed Rielle’s hand. Without her, he would be alone with this child, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to hide his face in Rielle’s arms. Monster or no, she was now a parent, and that was a thing he craved more than anything.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered.
She gave him a tight smile. “You’re strong, Simon. I know you can do this.”
Then she hurried back inside and met Corien in the middle of her bedroom.
“Where is it?” came Corien’s voice, low and dangerous.
Simon shifted slightly, peeking through a small sliver between the terrace curtains. His heart jumped in fear to see the leader of the angels—a beautiful man, pale and chiseled, hair gleaming black, lips full and cruel.
“She,” Rielle corrected him. “I have a daughter.”
Corien’s gaze was deadly still. “And where is she?”
“I’ve sent her far away. With someone so powerful you’ll never find her.”
Simon’s heart lifted. Was someone coming to help them?
Corien laughed unkindly. “Oh yes? And who might that be?”
“You can try and find the truth,” said Rielle, “but you’ll soon discover you’re no longer welcome inside me.”
With a snarl, Corien struck her hard across the mouth. Rielle stumbled, her lip bloodied, and Simon’s gaze found hers. Her flaming-gold eyes were hard, triumphant. There was a strength on her tired face that he’d never seen before.
I’ve sent her far away. With someone so powerful you’ll never find her.
You’re strong, Simon. You can do this.
And suddenly Simon understood: no one was coming to help them.
He was the powerful someone.
And it was up to him alone to save the princess.
He would have to use his magic—his half-blood marque magic, the traveling magic that had doomed nearly all of his kind—to send them both hundreds of miles away, to Borsvall and to safety.
Rielle turned back to Corien.
“You shouldn’t get so angry,” she told him. “You make mistakes when you’re angry. If you hadn’t been so blinded with it, you’d have stayed with me, grabbed her the moment she was born, and slit her throat right then and there.”
Corien smiled coldly at her. “You might have killed me for that.”
The queen shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll kill you now anyway.”
Simon turned away, his chest tight with fear. How could he possibly do this? He was only eight years old. He had read his traveling books over and over, of course, but he still didn’t understand everything inside them. And from what his father had taught him about the old days, before the marques were hunted down by both humans and angels, most of their kind didn’t attempt traveling until adulthood.
You can do this, Simon, came a voice. A woman’s voice—but not the queen’s. Familiar, but…
He whirled, searching the darkness, and found no one.
You must do it, said the voice. You and the child, Simon, are the only ones who can save us. Quickly, now. Before he discovers you. Your father hid you well, but I can’t protect you any longer.
A thick, fleshy sound came from inside the queen’s bedroom. Glass crashed to the floor. The queen cried out, and Corien muttered something hateful.
The castle groaned. The wall against which Simon hid rumbled like something deep underground was awakening. A hot burst of air erupted from inside the bedroom, shattering the windows. Simon ducked low over the baby. She squirmed against his chest with a muted, angry cry.
“Hush, please,” Simon whispered. The air vibrated around him; the terrace rocked beneath his feet. Sweat rolled down his back. A thrumming bright light from within the bedroom swelled, growing ever more brilliant.