The Fiend Queen (2 page)

Castelle knelt and tucked her own curly dark hair behind her ears. She watched Redtrue with concern in her turquoise eyes, the tattoo around the right eye wrinkling. Redtrue drew a pyramid, and light flickered inside before it went dark again.

“Leave it,” Castelle said, “until your strength returns.”

They were a sorry, bleeding group. An arrow stuck out of Brutal’s chest like a flagpole. They hadn’t dared remove it. Brutal had taught her not to pull an arrow or blade unless she was ready to treat the wound, and they couldn’t stop long enough to treat any of them.

Katya stalked past them, her body aching with every step. Away from their noise, pounding filled the corridor again. Averie and Roland’s thugs would be on them soon. Katya pushed herself to hurry until she spotted her mother lying in the gloom.

As Katya bent and scooped her mother into her arms, she praised the spirits that Ma was petite instead of tall and muscled. She could have easily carried her mother before, but her arms now felt as if they were filled with porridge, and her back burnt like the sun.

She cradled her mother’s blond head against her shoulder while settling the weight on her hips. The comforting rise and fall of Ma’s chest made Katya’s own breathing come a little easier. Katya held the candle between two fingers, tilted away, the wax dripping onto the stones.

When she approached the others, Castelle held out her arms. Katya passed Ma and the candle over, and Castelle started down the corridor, the queen of Farraday snug against her chest.

“Take the first left,” Katya said, “and then straight on.”

“I won’t go far.”

Katya knelt next to Redtrue as the candlelight faded. “How are you feeling?”

“Useless.” She mumbled something Katya didn’t catch. The worse Redtrue fared, the thicker her Allusian accent became. She’d muttered as she followed them, and Katya was tempted to ask if she also wished Castelle would shut up.

Katya snaked an arm around her and lifted her. “Come on. We’ll get a head start on Brutal.” In the dim light, they could see enough to step around him.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Redtrue said.

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.” She winced, recalling a time Crowe had said those same words.

“The Fiend magic,” Redtrue said. “We have to stop it.”

That wouldn’t be possible, not when the palace was built on the prison of a greater Fiend, Yanchasa the Mighty, the monster that had allowed ancient Farradains to conquer this land and had forced Katya’s ancestors to carry its Aspect in order to keep their power.

With her Aspect stripped away, Katya had been able to keep the secret of the Umbriels from Redtrue, but time spent with Katya’s mother undid all her work. Ma had already transformed into her Fiendish self in order to save Katya’s life.

But no pyradisté had ever been sickened by the great capstone under the palace. Redtrue couldn’t even blame her mysterious illness on the fact that she was Allusian. After all, the capstone had never affected Starbride.

Katya told herself not to wander there. Starbride was in the city fighting a rebellion, the same thing Katya was supposed to be doing from inside the palace. Katya had seen Roland venturing into the city as well. She had to destroy his pyramids, cripple his power before he could use it against anyone else. Instead she was crawling through the dark, looking for a place to hide her wounded while Starbride was entangled in the fight of a thousand lifetimes.

“It’s in that direction,” Redtrue said, pointing ahead. “The pyramid with the Fiend magic, I can feel it.”

Katya frowned. “Not down?”

“Is there something beneath us I should know about?”

“Not now.” Maybe not ever.

Redtrue made a disgusted noise. “You and your secrets.”

It was so close to what Starbride said on a regular basis that Katya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

They couldn’t stop anywhere obvious. Averie knew the palace as well as Katya, and she knew the secret passageways twice as well. Katya hadn’t called her a first class lady-in-waiting just for her sewing skills. But Averie was gone, just as dead as Roland’s other victims. He’d stripped her mind and made her his puppet. At least it gave Katya a reason to focus on anger rather than grief.

Averie might look in their old bedrooms or any of the Order’s meeting places, but the secret passageways connected more than just the royal apartments. As a young rake, Katya had taken great delight in maneuvering her lovers into certain rooms along the secret routes.

After they’d dragged Brutal a little farther, Katya pressed her ear to a stone door. Nothing moved in the room beyond. She peeked out. An unmade bed and various objects scattered about said the occupant had left in a hurry, probably when Roland had taken over. Katya hurried to the door that led to the hallway and locked it.

She and Castelle hauled the others inside. “Do you think we can get Brutal in the bed without hurting him?” Castelle asked.

Katya shook her head. “Do you know how to stitch someone?”

“No.”

“I wouldn’t attempt it then,” Brutal said softly.

Katya knelt by his side. “Are you back with us?”

“I passed out, don’t remember when.” His baby face, usually so ruddy, was the gray of old stone. He waved weakly toward his chest. “I think it’s in my lung.”

She brushed his short brown hair away from his slick forehead and fought the tears swimming in her eyes. “What can we do?”

“Can you talk us through fixing you?” Castelle asked.

“If it were you,” he said, “I’d bandage you and take you to a chapterhouse.”

“The bandages we could do.” Katya clenched her fist. Before Roland, she couldn’t remember feeling so helpless. “We could stitch you up, but if you’re wounded inside…”

“Leave me here.”

“Brutal—”

He captured both her hands in one of his. “Finish the mission. I trust in Best and Berth. Fortitude will see me through. Kill Roland, destroy his pyramids.”

Katya made her voice as steady as she could. “I will come back for you.”

“I know.”

The faith in his eyes made her want to weep anew, and she could almost hear the echo of unspoken words: he knew she would come back, but he might not be alive to greet her.

Katya’s mother began to stir as they were draping blankets around Brutal, curling them around the arrow shaft. Before Katya could help her, Ma sat up, inhaled sharply, and grabbed hold of her pyramid necklace.

Her blue eyes locked with Katya’s. “What did I do?”

“You took your necklace off—”

“After that.”

“You can’t just take it off, Ma. It’s not why you came.”

“Is it not?” She stood, using the wall as support.

“Ma…”

“Did I kill Averie, or is she still hunting us?”

“She’s still out there.”

Redtrue watched them like a hunting hawk. “We must find the source of this Fiend magic. If it is a pyramid, I shall cleanse it and recover.”

Katya and her mother exchanged a glance.

Redtrue sighed long and loud. “Is now the time for secrets?”

“Does she mean the capstone?” Ma asked.

“I don’t think so. She didn’t think it was below us.”

“Again you mention down,” Redtrue said. “What are you keeping below this place?”

“Farraday is built on the backs of Fiends,” Castelle said.

When Katya glanced at her sharply, Castelle shrugged. “Like she said, what good are secrets now? She’s seen her Majesty’s darker side.”

“There is a great Fiend trapped under the palace,” Ma said in clipped tones. “If you cleanse its prison, you could release it.”

Redtrue closed her eyes and sagged in Castelle’s embrace. Exhaustion or despair, Katya couldn’t tell. “I can feel it.”

“From all the way up here?” Katya asked. “That’s impossible.”

Redtrue gestured toward her shoulder as if she might throw her braid over, but her arm dropped to her side. “Impossible or not, I can sense it, and it is not the pyramid I believe is sapping my strength.”

“Fiendish magic.” Ma stared into space.

“Something new?” Katya asked. “Something Roland made?”

“Not a prison,” Ma muttered. Katya was reminded of how often she thought out loud. Maybe she’d gotten it from her mother instead of her father.

“These wild Fiends,” Ma said, “we thought Roland might have summoned them.”

“And how else but through a pyramid?” Katya asked. “This call must be doing something to Redtrue.”

“Poisoning me,” Redtrue said.

But Starbride hadn’t seemed sick, and she’d been in the city longer, closer to this pyramid. She hadn’t reported any of the pyradistés being afflicted, either, so why affect Redtrue and none of the others? Maybe it was one of those differences between Farradain and Allusian magic that Katya was starting to suspect were fundamental.

“Can you walk?” she asked Redtrue.

She nodded, but Castelle had to help her to her feet.

“You’re going to have to lead the way,” Katya said.

“We’ll be faster now that we’ve found Brutal a place to rest,” Castelle said.

“If Averie’s broken into the secret passageways, we could find ourselves fighting in close quarters in a hurry.”

“If we go via the hallways,” Castelle said, “we might have to fight every step of the way.”

“Passages it is.” Katya’s body demanded she rest and let someone else take care of Farraday’s problems, but there were too many people depending on her. If the wild Fiends were fighting the army or protecting Roland, Katya had to do something about them.

After Castelle changed Katya’s bandage, they took to the secret passageways again. Ma and Castelle helped Redtrue limp along. Katya took point, rapier drawn and holding a lantern they’d found in the abandoned room. Her back ached with every step, but that didn’t alarm her as much as the numbness inside, as if someone had hollowed her out.

Katya heard the hint of footsteps over Redtrue’s labored wheeze. She set her lantern down and backed away, staying low and hoping the flickering flame would mask her presence. The footsteps paused before they clattered into a run. Castelle took her place at Katya’s side, sword out. A corpse Fiend barreled around the corner and leapt for them, its gray lips pulled back in a snarl.

Katya tried to catch its charge, but her shoulder gave, and she fell to one knee. Castelle grunted as she tried to bear the corpse Fiend’s weight alone. She staggered, tripped over Katya, and then rolled away. Katya hacked at the corpse Fiend’s knees while Castelle aimed for its pyramid. It ducked to the side and let out a ghastly howl.

The howl echoed in the corridors, and a heartbeat passed before a number of Fiendish throats took up the cry. Desperation and adrenaline pushed Katya up. As the corpse Fiend dodged Castelle, Katya thrust with all her strength and shattered the pyramid in its forehead. It dropped lifelessly to the stone.

Katya grabbed her lantern as Castelle hauled Redtrue upright.

“We need to get out of here,” Ma said.

Castelle chuckled, though it had little humor. “Nice of the corpse Fiends to make our decision for us.”

The closest door led into a storeroom cluttered with furniture. It would have to do. After everyone was inside, Ma and Castelle stacked furniture against the passageway door. It wouldn’t stop anyone determined, but it might convince a near mindless corpse that Katya and her friends had gone another way. Katya only hoped that if Averie heard the howls, the furniture would fool her, too. “Not likely,” she muttered.

The door to the hallway creaked as Katya opened it, but no one lingered in the hall. The unadorned walls and uncarpeted floor indicated the servants’ section. Maybe Katya had gotten lucky for once and found someplace Roland wouldn’t bother to guard.

Starbride

The silence seemed to close around Starbride until nothing distracted her, not the pain that pounded through her temples, nor the distant sounds of fighting. She’d stuck a knife in Roland’s puppet, the last of the Sleeting brothers. If she turned, she’d see him dead in the street behind her.

No one spoke. It felt like an invisible wall separated her from Dawnmother, Hugo, Pennynail, and Master Bernard. After everything, were they afraid of her? Or maybe they just worried. She’d never know if they said nothing.

“Say something!” she cried as she whirled around.

Hugo and Master Bernard took a step back. Dawnmother’s dark brown eyes creased with concern. “Star, are you all right?”

“It’s war! You’ve all killed people!”

“It’s not the killing.” Hugo spoke slowly and smoothed his brown curls away from his forehead, looking younger than his fourteen years. “We do what we must, but you didn’t have to…”

Pennynail pushed his laughing Jack mask onto his head and became Freddie again. “We don’t have time for this. What’s done is done.” Anger burned in his green eyes and the taut line of his lean body. He loosened the collar that hid the pink scar around his neck. Combined with his raspy voice, no one could mistake the fact that he’d been hanged and lived to tell the tale.

Dawnmother and Hugo gawked at him. Master Bernard just blinked, clearly not recognizing him as the Dockland Butcher.

“Starbride,” Freddie asked, “can you keep fighting? Because we have to move faster than this. Talking can come later.”

“I feel…oh.” She pressed her forehead with the heel of her palm as pain roared in her ears.

“Your headache?” Master Bernard asked. “From days ago?”

“Stress is—” Dawnmother started.

Starbride walked away. It didn’t matter what the cause was. Freddie was right. They had to keep fighting. She headed toward the nearest echoing cries of pain.

Two groups of townspeople fought one another in the neighboring square. One side was easy to identify, all red-robed strength monks. Starbride picked out the first monks she’d freed from Roland’s mind control, Scarra and Fury, fighting near the front, both using staves along with kicks and punches. She knew the leader of the chapterhouse, Ruin, was probably somewhere in the press.

Starbride had hoped their opponents would be corpse Fiends, an enemy they’d taken the measure of, but these looked like ordinary people. None sported Starbride’s colors—the hawk of Farraday clutching a pyramid—the only way the citizens of Marienne had to tell friend from foe.