The Fiend Queen (7 page)

Ma pulled the tapestry aside while Katya waited with a ready blade. Averie still breathed, her nose bloody, face bruised, and hair and clothes burnt and blistered. Her bow had been broken across her body, and one of her arms lay unevenly beneath her.

Tears came unbidden to Katya’s eyes. In sleep, Averie was still the lady-in-waiting who’d served her faithfully for many years, the hunter who’d supplied game for her hunting princess persona, and the dear friend and confidante who’d helped her through her darkest, loneliest moments. Katya couldn’t hold in a sob as she sank down at Averie’s side.

“Jewel of my heart,” she said, the absurd nickname she’d given Averie so long ago. They’d never been lovers, never would have been, but Averie had been so constant and loving yet respectful of the distance that had to remain between them.

Lost in desperation, Katya looked to Redtrue. “Can you do anything for her?”

“Not unless she needs a bandage,” Redtrue said as she tied a cloth around Castelle’s head. “And I know she was once your friend, but should we even think of healing her now that she is your enemy?”

“Roland poisoned her mind. Can you cleanse her?”

“There is no pyramid to cleanse.”

Katya was tempted to ask if Redtrue could undo the mind magic, but of course she couldn’t; she wouldn’t even if she were able. And Starbride had already told them that there was nothing of Averie to reclaim. Roland hollowed out some of his puppets, those he found most useful, and left nothing but what he wanted in their places. Averie hadn’t been hypnotized; she’d been remade.

“Katya, we have to go,” Castelle said.

Given time, Averie would recover and dog their steps again. She wouldn’t stop until she was killed. Katya pictured the pained expression of shock on Averie’s face as Katya’s blade sank into her heart. A look like that would live with her forever. But if they captured her, she’d be executed eventually, and Katya bet that however she went to her grave—stoically quiet or cursing their names—she wouldn’t bear the peaceful expression she wore in sleep.

Katya kissed Averie’s soot-stained forehead. “You died long ago, jewel of my heart, in a battle bravely fought. Whatever awaits us after death, I hope you find peace, with no ungrateful royalty bossing you about.” Katya smoothed the hair from Averie’s cheeks, curled a hand around her chin, and pinched her nose and mouth shut.

Ma gasped, but no one spoke. There were faster ways to kill someone, but Katya couldn’t bear the thought of slitting Averie’s throat. She remembered Crowe telling her that he had killed Roland in nearly this same fashion. Of course, if Crowe
had
slit Roland’s throat, Katya suspected that even the Fiend couldn’t have saved him.

Crowe would have agreed, but he still would have said something like, “If we must kill those we love, best we do it softly.”

Averie shuddered once, and then she was gone, her eyes not even opening before the end.

Starbride

Hugo lay unconscious at Starbride’s feet. It had taken Scarra, Freddie, and Starbride’s Fiend suppression pyramid to subdue him, and even then he’d managed to claw Scarra’s arm. One of Ursula’s men gave her a bandage as Starbride tried to field a hundred questions at once.

Luckily, the pack of Docklanders who’d charged their position included Prince Reinholt and Maia, two people well versed in keeping Fiendish natures secret.

“Did the Fiend king do that to him?” one of the Docklanders asked, gesturing toward Hugo.

“No doubt,” Reinholt said in a drawl eerily reminiscent of Katya. Either he’d been taking lessons from his sister, or she’d based some of her court persona on him. He made some joke about Hugo’s Fiendish nature not helping with the ladies, and a few of his followers laughed.

Those who didn’t looked to Maia, but she waved their questions away as, “Something to worry about later.”

“Let’s hope none of these people have long memories,” Ursula said in Starbride’s ear. “Pretty soon there won’t be a war to put off their questions.”

“I like your confidence, Captain.”

Ursula’s light touch on Starbride’s shoulder turned her around. “I won’t be put off, either. Freddie Ballantine will be gone from here after the dust settles, or he’ll be a guest of the city Watch.”

Starbride sighed. “You’re talking about events that happened
ten
years ago.”

“Crimes don’t just vanish, Princess Consort. Those who died don’t disappear from memory.”

“But he wasn’t the Butcher!” Starbride was louder than she planned, and several of the Docklanders glanced her way. Freddie had faded to the background, not wanting to be recognized by anyone from his old haunting ground.

Ursula barked a laugh, but it had no humor in it. “There were more deaths than just those killed by the Butcher. I meant what I said. If he’s still here when the fight is done, he belongs to me. Form up!” Her squad piled around her, and Ursula led them off in another direction.

“What was that about?” Maia asked.

“Dawn,” Starbride said, “will you keep the Docklanders occupied?”

When Dawnmother nodded, Starbride gestured for Maia and Reinholt to join her out of earshot of the others. Several of the Dockland group catcalled to Reinholt about keeping all the women to himself. He just shrugged as if it couldn’t be helped. Scarra joined them and helped move Hugo to the side of the street.

“Having fun?” Starbride asked Reinholt.

“Can I help it if they love me?” He’d dressed all in black with his coat undone at the neck, the black prince in repose. His dark blond hair was untidy, but his smiling blue eyes and the shadow of stubble on his cheeks were more in line with hard partying than hard living. He’d taken to the disgraced noble persona like an old horse put to pasture.

Starbride just kept from rolling her eyes. She had asked him to win the Docklanders over. She couldn’t mock him for doing as he was told.

“What was the captain upset about?” Maia asked again, too accustomed to deflecting questions to have her own dismissed. Color had returned to her once pale face, and she looked much healthier than when they’d first freed her. She’d managed to put on a little weight, or maybe it was just her heavy coat that made her bulky. As a Fiend, she’d been painfully thin.

“It’s about me,” a voice said over Starbride’s shoulder. Freddie emerged from the shadows of a ruined storefront, managing to keep his back to the Docklanders.

Reinholt blinked at him, but Maia looked him up and down, frowning hard at his leather outfit and the knives sheathed about his person. “Pennynail?”

“I’m glad to see you up and around.” He dipped his head. “And to finally speak to you at last.”

“You’re different than I pictured,” she said.

“Bit more red in my cheeks?” He held his palms to his face as if blushing, reminding Starbride so much of his pantomimes as the masked Pennynail that she grinned.

Maia did, too. “I thought you must be horrifically ugly.”

“Thanks.”

She put a fist on her hip. “But you’re
not
, I was about to say. You do have a scratchy voice.”

“Again, thanks.”

“
But
,” she said with a laugh, “that’s not a good enough reason to cover your face and never speak, so why did you?”

“I know you,” Reinholt said. He pointed to the scar around Freddie’s neck. “You’re a criminal.”

Freddie turned his nose up. “I’m
the
criminal.”

“What do you mean, what criminal?” Maia asked.

“Dear little Maia,” Freddie said, “I’m glad you never had the stomach for horror stories.”

Reinholt took Maia’s arm and made her retreat a step. “You’re that murderer.”

“Which murderer?” Maia asked, looking back and forth between them.

“I’d never hurt you,” Freddie said to her.

Reinholt sneered. “What’s that worth, the word of a killer?”

Freddie gave him an up and down glance. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“Enough,” Starbride said. “The short of it is this: people were murdered years ago in Dockland. Freddie took the blame. They tried to hang him; Crowe rescued him. The real murderer died, but Freddie was never exonerated. Yes?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he said.

“So, you didn’t murder anyone?” Maia asked.

“No,” Freddie said just as Reinholt muttered, “Probably.”

They exchanged glares, and Starbride had to wonder how much animosity was from Reinholt’s remembrances of the Butcher and how much was for how he’d been treated by Pennynail while in Starbride’s care.

Maia wriggled out of Reinholt’s grasp and stepped forward to peer into Freddie’s face. She put her hands up, covering his features from her perspective. “Seems like the same old Pennynail to me.”

He grinned so hard it was like the sun had come out, and when he turned away from Maia, Starbride thought she saw tears in his eyes.

“You might be a tad better looking
with
the mask,” Maia said.

He gave her a tickle. “You ought to wear it all the time, then, if you think so much of it!” He pulled it out of his belt and tried to put it on her head, but she danced out of the way.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about,” Scarra said. “No matter his past, he’s covering our asses now.”

“An enviable position from any angle,” Reinholt said with a wink.

Scarra snorted. “Go ahead and try your luck, Prince, but I’d sooner charm the trousers off the princess consort than you’d talk your way into mine.” She knelt and lifted Hugo in her arms. “I’ve got skinny here. Let me know when you want to move out.” She crossed the street to join Dawnmother.

“So, the battle is going well for you?” Starbride asked Reinholt.

He shrugged. “We’ve lost some people. We collected some pyradistés who were hiding in Dockland. They helped destroy this pyramid a few streets over.” He sniffed. “I thought you were supposed to be doing that.”

“I’ve been busy fighting your uncle.”

Maia leapt back to their side. “You’ve seen my father?” Before Starbride could say anything, Maia bit her lip. “I mean
him
. He’s not my father anymore.”

Reinholt wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Maia seemed to banish his snottier side as easily as shooing a fly. “You’ve got plenty of family left, dearheart.”

Maia shook her head. “We heard he was out fighting the army.”

“What else have you heard?” Starbride asked.

“All rumor, apparently,” Reinholt said. “We heard that the Fiend king, those corpse things, and even some wild Fiends were tearing through the army. But if you’ve seen Roland, it can’t be true unless he can be in two places at once.”

Starbride told them of what Roland had done to Alphonse, turned a pyradisté into a copy of himself.

And then, a voice inside reminded her, she’d killed him, stuck the knife in, felt his blood on her hands. And then she’d lit those people on fire, and she’d enjoyed it.

“Starbride,” Freddie said, “are you still with us?”

She buried the thoughts again. “He’s probably heading back to the palace. If we’re winning in the streets but his forces have the army pinned down, he’ll want to gather more resources.”

“How can you be sure?” Reinholt asked.

She couldn’t, but it was as good a guess as any. “He knows now that Katya isn’t with me. He might know she’s not with the army. He led the Order of Vestra. He knows what kind of jobs we’re best at. He might have guessed that Katya will go for the palace.”

“You just want to ride off to be with your lover,” Reinholt said.

Maia said, “Rein—”

Freddie cut her off. “Watch your mouth, princely.”

Starbride put an arm between them before they could burst into argument. “I’ve made my decision. We’re heading for the palace.”

“As I was going to say,” Reinholt said loudly, “I’m glad. If we can, we should all be with the people we love right now.”

Starbride didn’t know what to make of any supposed sincerity on his part. “Can you send groups sweeping toward the palace and the wall? If the army is in trouble, they’ll need your help.”

Reinholt nodded, but Maia shook her head. “I’m coming with you, Starbride,” she said. Reinholt looked as if she’d just punched him in the gut. “You don’t need me out here, Rein. You’ve got enough soldiers, but I’m sure Starbride could use an archer.”

“Glad to have you,” Starbride said. She exchanged a glance with Reinholt, one that promised she wouldn’t let anything happen to his dear cousin. He didn’t seem convinced.

“Reinholt,” Maia said, “I’m in the Order of Vestra, too, you know.”

After a sigh, he said, “Take the greatest care with yourself.”

They split then, Reinholt taking the Docklanders in one direction while Starbride, Dawnmother, Freddie, Maia, and Scarra bearing Hugo moved off in the other.

“Should we stash skinny somewhere?” Scarra asked.

“He’ll wake in about an hour,” Starbride said. “Not to worry.” She hugged Maia around the shoulders. “I’m glad you decided to come with us.”

“Like old times,” Maia said. “Well, almost.”

Starbride sensed that Maia was hiding something. She never could resist a secret, and someone else’s problems would give her something to think about besides what she’d done that day. “It’s not just the fighting that’s upsetting you.”

Maia chuckled. “Spirits know it would be enough.”

“Even so.”

Maia sighed and leaned so close her head almost touched Starbride’s shoulder. “I missed my monthly.”

Starbride waited for more and finally said, “Your monthly what?”

Maia rolled her eyes. “You know. What happens to all women every month?”

“You haven’t bled, you mean?” When Maia nodded, Starbride sighed. Maia could be sick, she supposed, or it could be some after-effect of being a Fiend for so long. But no, she knew what it meant. “Oh, Maia.”

“When I was a Fiend, I didn’t notice if I bled or not. Such things seemed beneath me. But Darren, before he went chasing Katya, he and I…” She pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. “The Fiends liked it with each other once we’d merged with them.” She looked up as if she could make the tears sink back in her head.

“Is everything all right?” Freddie called.

“We’re fine.” Starbride pulled Maia closer. “But it’s been months.”