The Orphan Queen (36 page)

MY BODY ACHED
as I approached the gloomy old castle. The bag strap dug into my shoulder, all my belongings weighing me down. Clouds covered the sky, leaving the world in heavy, palpable blackness. The wraithy wind that blew in from the west bore breaths of freezing and destruction.

I had to hurry.

I whistled the four-note signal as I walked through the outer curtain, a hulking, mossy shadow in the darkness. While I waited for someone to disarm the traps around the state apartments door, I knelt and groped through my bag. Black Knife hadn't lied when he'd said he found all my things. There was the shape of my notebook, my grappling hook and line, my daggers, and several other weapons. Even my stolen sword.

“You're a pretty poor vigilante these days, Black Knife,” I muttered as I hooked my weapons to my belt and slipped my other supplies—lockpicks, matches, a coil of silver wire—into
my pocket. “Though I suppose you probably paid for my sword.”

For a whole three heartbeats, I entertained the image of an ink-cloaked boy approaching a terrified blacksmith, flinging money at the counter. But I remembered our inevitable war, Lady Meredith, and magic: things that would always come between us.

“Wil?” Melanie's voice came from the doorway. Candlelight flickered as she shoved the stick at someone else, and boots thudded on the ground. Her arms wrapped around me, squeezing tight. “Wil, you're safe.”

All my aches forgotten, I hugged her back and breathed in the familiar scent of my best friend. “I was so worried about you.”

“You too.” She squeezed and stepped back, holding me at arm's length. “What happened? I got out of the palace, but couldn't get back in without being spotted. There were
so
many guards. I waited around for a while, until I heard they caught Black Knife—a girl—and that she'd killed the king, and she only got caught because she went back to kill the prince, too.”

Who made up these rumors?

“I'll tell you everything later. But first, there's something I have to say to everyone. Are the Ospreys all here?”

“Yes.” She grabbed my bag and leaned into me again, voice low. “It was Patrick. You were right.”

My stomach tumbled, and I wished I didn't know Black Knife's identity. Then I wouldn't have cared as much that Patrick had killed Tobiah's father. Though I had no love for King Terrell, my feelings toward his son were . . . immeasurably different. Immeasurably complicated.

I dragged my gloved fingertips over my daggers as Melanie led me to the state apartments door. Connor waited there, wide- eyed and pale.

“Wil!” He thrust the candle to one side and hugged me with his free arm. “I was so worried. You stopped writing to me.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Pretending I didn't hear his hiccup and sniff, I smoothed back his hair and whispered, “I missed you, too. Have you been strong?”

He gave a stiff nod. “Even when I thought I couldn't be, I made myself strong. Looking at your old notes helped.”

“Good.” I kissed the top of his head, too exhausted and relieved to hold back affection. “I'm proud of you.”

On the way into the common room, I met several other Ospreys. I traded embraces with Theresa, Oscar, Ronald, Carl, Kevin, and Paige, and finally, as I entered the common room, lit with a roaring fire and candles all around, I found Patrick staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Welcome, Wilhelmina.” He didn't turn around. The fire threw splinters of light and shadow across his back and the short crop of his hair. The set of his shoulders said he was displeased, and again I wondered if a dead queen was easier to fight for than a defiant one. Was he disappointed I'd been set free?

“You assassinated Terrell.”

Patrick turned his head, giving a view of his sharp profile. Light flared, casting his eyes deeper into shadow. “He deserved to die.”

“We're not murderers, Patrick.”

He said nothing.

“Was this your plan all along?”

Patrick turned and strode around the table. Behind me, the Ospreys scattered into groups of two and three, closer to the hot fire or to the opposite side of the room. “Your mission was more than you knew, Wilhelmina. Yes, I wanted the soldiers freed, the locations and information, and a map of the palace, but anyone could have gotten those. Why do you think I sent
you
to the palace when I could have sent Oscar or Ronald as soldiers or lords and accomplished everything you did
without
that detour into the wraithland?”

Behind me, Theresa gasped and whispered, “She went to the wraithland?”

“Hush, Rees,” muttered Melanie.

Patrick wasn't finished. “Sending you was always a risk. You're going to be our
queen
. If they'd discovered your identity, everything would have been for nothing. But I sent you because
you
deserved to take revenge for what he did to our families.”

He said it as though he'd tried to do me a
favor
by asking me to kill someone.

“You intended to assassinate King Terrell all this time,” I whispered.

“I intended for you to do it, but when you betrayed the Ospreys that night in the Peacock Inn—”

“You
killed
someone, Patrick.” My heart pounded in my ears, deafening, and my fists ached at my sides. “You went behind my back to kill someone because you knew I didn't approve. You hid the truth because you knew it was wrong.”

“You should be happy.” He made his voice a growl. “Terrell was responsible for the fall of Aecor, and now the Indigo Kingdom will be in chaos while the throne changes hands.
This is the perfect time for us to reclaim Aecor. The Indigo Kingdom is in ruins: one ruler murdered in his sleep, and now a city on the verge of collapse. I've seen the refugees fleeing. They say a wraith beast is coming, that it's shouting
your
name.”

I couldn't breathe.

“How did that happen, Wil?”

As if I would ever tell him anything again.

“Regardless, we can use this to our advantage. Imagine what they'll say now.” Patrick advanced, his glare unwavering. “Even the wraith knows of Wilhelmina Korte's right to the throne. Even the wraith wants the Indigo Kingdom punished for what they did to her.” He drew a deep and steadying breath. “Wilhelmina, your army is waiting for you.”

Wind tore at the castle; somewhere above, a loose board creaked and banged.

“We'll leave Skyvale tonight,” said Patrick. “All of us. We'll return to Aecor and gather our army. We'll strike the Indigo Kingdom when they're most vulnerable.”

I relaxed my hands at my sides, let the tension fall from my shoulders as I strode across the room toward the dark windows.

“For almost ten years, the only thing I've wanted was Aecor. Patrick”—I turned to find him watching me, confidence shining in his eyes—“you made me believe that Aecor would be returned to us one day. You inspired me to work hard, to become something no queen has been before: a warrior. And for all these years, I thought I'd be willing to do anything to take back my kingdom.”

The eight other Ospreys around the room shifted, looking between Patrick and me with wide, round eyes. I couldn't
remember ever fighting with Patrick in front of them—at least not before the night in the Peacock Inn when he told me Quinn and Ezra had died. Only Theresa, Connor, and Melanie had been present then. Now, all that remained of the Ospreys watched.

I addressed all of them, too. “Recent events have opened my eyes. I've become aware of lines I will not cross, not even to take the vermilion throne.” I drew a shaky breath and pulled myself straighter. “I will not murder. I will not sacrifice my own people for a mission. I will not
use
people and let them suffer the consequences of something I did; I will take responsibility for my own actions.”

Patrick stepped forward. “Wilhelmina—”

I lifted a hand, cutting him off. “Patrick Lien, you have given us years of service. You rescued us from the orphanage. You found food and shelter for us. You trained us. But your methods can't be ours. You lead rebellions, not kingdoms. Leadership of the Ospreys must shift.”

Rustling and whispers sounded around the others, but Patrick just stared at me without expression. “What do you propose?”

“From now on, the Ospreys do things differently. When we take action, it will be to help people, not hurt them.”

“How will you take back your kingdom like that?” he asked. “War is inevitable. War has casualties.”

I swept past him to where my bag waited in the doorway. “If we Ospreys are to be good leaders of a resurrected Aecor, we must reclaim the kingdom in a way that doesn't involve war or casualties.”

“And I suppose you're just going to ask for the kingdom?”
Patrick shook his head. “Don't be naive. They will never hand it over to you.”

No, they wouldn't just
hand
it to me. I'd have to work for it. Earn it. “I'll sign the Wraith Alliance.”

“And ban magic in Aecor?” Connor asked, his voice tiny.

I touched his shoulder. “Magic is already banned in Aecor. It has been for almost ten years.” Thunder rolled in the west, rattling the windows in their frames. “I know my parents wouldn't sign it, but it makes no difference to me anymore. I've been to the wraithland. I've seen firsthand what kind of danger it poses, not just to the Indigo Kingdom, but to us. Unless the wraith is stopped, the Indigo Kingdom won't be here to shield us from it forever.”

Patrick shook his head. “If you think you can peacefully take back Aecor, you're delusional. It's not going to happen. People there have lived under the tyranny of a false king and overlord for a decade. Our men have been sent to the wraithland to fight battles not theirs. But this battle
is
theirs: they want to fight for you.”

“They won't have to.” I lifted my chin and addressed the Ospreys. “Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe while I negotiate for our kingdom.”

“There's a monster down there,” said Paige. “It'll be in Skyvale soon, if it's not already. We could just let the city burn.”

I closed my eyes, remembering the drawings on walls and fences: charcoal-colored knives with messages written beneath them, begging for help, or gratitude for a life. I remembered the refugees outside the city, pleading to be saved from the beast that must have followed me here.

I remembered the fiddler I'd rescued, the neighborhood I'd protected by killing the wraith cat, and the nights spent wearing Black Knife's mask as the two of us helped everyone we could find. I remembered how
right
it felt to help them, to give them hope.

“No,” I said. “We can't just let the city burn. There are good people there, and they don't deserve to die simply because they aren't
our
people.”

“We can't stop a monster, though.” Melanie glanced from me to Patrick, and back. “We shouldn't have to.”

No, the Ospreys shouldn't have to, but I did. I'd have to face what I created—and soon. “I don't expect you to stop it. I expect you to get to safety and help others there, as well. Skyvale has two armies and a police force, and tonight, they'll have me. I've been to the wraithland. I've killed wraith beasts before. I can help with this one.”

“This one is screaming for you,” Melanie said. “It'll kill you.”

“Maybe. That's a chance I'm willing to take, in order to enter peaceful negotiations to reclaim Aecor.”

“I can't allow you to do this.” Patrick narrowed his eyes; the scar over his eyebrow stood out white in the flickering light.

I turned my still-bruised cheek toward him. “Will you hit me again to stop me?”

Patrick flinched. It was small, only for a moment, but the other Ospreys saw it, and they gasped. Connor and Theresa edged toward me.

“You're my princess,” Patrick said. “My future queen. No matter what you do, I will never again strike you.”

“Will you follow me tonight?” I forced myself to breathe evenly, to not show the way my heart pounded and my head spun with terror. I was challenging Patrick. Asking him to bow to me for once.

“Not tonight,” he said. “Not when I know you're wrong.”

“I'll follow you.” Connor's voice was small, frightened, but he stood at my side with his chin high.

“So will I.” Theresa closed the distance between us, and a moment later, Carl and Kevin joined them. The Ospreys were voting.

Oscar, Ronald, and Paige crossed the room to stand by Patrick, leaving Melanie in the middle, pale and still.

“What will you do, Melanie?” I kept my voice soft, and our eyes met for a heartbeat. “Whatever you feel is right.”

Melanie gave a slight nod. “Thanks.” And with hesitating steps, she walked toward Patrick.

“Mel,” I breathed, shivering against the chill of all the blood draining from my face.

“Sorry.” She took Patrick's hand and kept my eyes. “I just think he's right. There's no peaceful way for you to get your throne back. I know you're going to try, and they'll protect you when you need it.” She nodded at Connor, Theresa, Carl, and Kevin. “And while you try it your way, we'll build your army.”

Tension snapped between the ten of us, the Ospreys split down the middle.

“I can't believe this is happening,” Theresa whispered.

I touched her hand. “It's all right.” I cleared my throat and spoke louder. “It's all right. Be safe on your way to Aecor. Put a cushion on the vermilion throne for me.”

Patrick's eyes were steel on mine, a sword or knife or thundercloud sky. “Until we meet again, my princess.”

With that, I gathered my half of the Ospreys, and hurried them out the door.

I RUSHED MY
Ospreys through the old palace, into their rooms to grab their jump bags—packs filled with a change of clothes and all their most important possessions: notebooks, childhood toys, or miniatures of their parents.