Awakening (46 page)

“I may be a stupid cow but you’re a coward!” Celeste called out
. Two could play psychological mind games, though she doubted it would really bother the Queen to be called a coward. In her life, the Queen had probably been called a great number of names. But, it was the only thing Celeste could come up with until she found the Queen. Keeping her voice even, she called out, “A big old chicken.”

The Queen’s laughter filled the air again, “To think, I actually worried for a half a second that you could take my place but you are
nothing – NOTHING! You cannot even find me.”

Celeste had to give her that one; there was nothing in the damn area to hide in or behind, just a whole bunch of plush pillows piled in one of the corners. It was just a huge throne room used to intimidate lesser mortals with its size and grandeur and
extravagance. She couldn’t fully appreciate the luxury the last time she was in here because she had been strapped to the damn table and… and….

Her mouth fell open as she remembered that when Auberon had walked through the door, the Queen had appeared from the opposite side. Her eyes flew to the
other wall, looking for anything that would indicate an entrance, or an opening, or something.

Wh
erever it was, it was well hidden. Pushing off the wall, she scurried across the room, keeping one eye on the entire room, the other on her destination. The Queen was reckless in her arrogance, believing Celeste wouldn’t be able to find a hidden door that she knew to be there from previous experience. Running her hands over the smooth surface, she pressed and prodded anything that looked like a knob or switch that would open the door.

Finally, finally, a gap appeared and she slipped through, feeling the bump as it immediately closed behind her. Darkness engulfed her and for a moment she thought that perhaps she went into the wrong room. But as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out a dim light at the end of a long hall. At least, she hoped it was a hall.

Putting her hands out to either side, she felt the welcomed solidness of walls. Her relief was quickly laid to rest as the Queen whooshed by in a gust of speed, trailing long talons against Celeste’s arms, her neck, her face. The Queen was using the darkness to her advantage, attacking Celeste with dozens of shallow cuts as she made her way towards the light. 

“Is that the best you can do, your Majesty?” Celeste called out in contempt, feeling the blood trickle
over her skin.

“Not at all, my dear
, pathetic rival,” the Queen’s voice smoothed through the air, moments before a sharp blade slid across Celeste’s ribs. A moment later the blade slid across her upper arm, her cheek.

Celeste gasped as the blade kept biting into her flesh. Clutching her side, her fingers bec
ame slick with blood. She could feel the warm wetness from the gash on her cheek trailing down her throat, staining the front of her shirt.  She couldn't think about the cut on her arm. Those wounds were going to be a serious problem, even if she had normal healing abilities.

Just ahead, s
he could see the room and she knew she was close. If only she was as close to coming up with a strategy to deal with the Queen. Apparently, showing up with a surge of power wasn’t enough. She was a fool to believe she was ready, that she would ever be ready.

Good god, the Queen was ancient; she had survived thousands of years on more than wits alone. She had put down any insurrection with the ease of swatting a fly. Did Celeste truly believe that she was destined to become the Queen, she – a mere human
? She was a fool and it would be smart to just leave now, find a gullible
Apocritum
to lick her wounds and fight another day. Or, better yet, throw herself upon the mercy of the Queen. Her Majesty had to have some mercy; surely she wouldn’t rip the arms out of Celeste’s sockets and beat her over the head with them, would she?

“Stop that!” Celeste cried out, covering her ears to shut out the incessant doubts whispering in her head. She winced as she pulled at the torn wound in her side. Her hand quickly returned to her
ribs in a futile attempt to hold her flesh together.

F
inally, she stumbled into the brightly lit room and blinked as the light blinded her. Her shirt was stained red with blood, her flesh was covered in the hot liquid, and her side was spilling it by the bucketful. As soon as her eyes adjusted, Celeste surveyed the sterile room. The Queen was reclining on a chaise lounge, looking resplendent in all her glory, a victorious smile curling her ruby lips. Celeste turned her head to the side and stumbled back a step. Hundreds, thousands, maybe millions, of wasp wings fluttered against the other side of a glass division.

“Do you give up?” the Queen asked, her voice laden with amusement and triumph.

“No,” Celeste gasped, dragging her hurting body to the wall of wasps. She could feel their anguish; they were heavily stressed. She remembered watching a nature show about bees turning on their Queen when they were agitated. Did wasps do that? Did they have a Queen?

“Give up,
child,” the Queen murmured kindly. “And I may allow one of my
Apocritum
to heal you. Be my slave, child, and I will allow you to live.”

“Never,”
Celeste breathed, pulling her shoulders back and ignoring the blinding pain along her side, across her cheek. Closing her eyes, she let the power surge through her, feeling it tingle along her skin from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes, from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Lifting her chin, she brought her arms out to the side. “I will never surrender.”

“What are you doing?” the Queen asked and Celeste heard the panic in her voice. Celeste ignored her as she summoned the energy to cast her spell. “You fool! Do you wish to die?”

“Everybody dies, even Queens,” Celeste said in a hollow voice, her mind gathering the elements. Tilting her chin further, until the top of her head brushed the glass, she asked, "Isn't that right, Azaerlyn?"

The Queen gasped at the ancient name, her black eyes widening in her face as she stared at Celeste in true horror. "How do you know that name?"

Celeste inhaled a shaky breath, weakening for a moment before she regained her strength through sheer determination. Licking her lips, she asked, “Do you yield?”

“Never,” the Queen hissed, bringing her knees up to her chest
, trying to make herself as small a target as possible.

“Very well,” Celeste muttered in a
monotonous voice as her chin dropped to her chest and she brought her arms together, clapping her hands in front of her. The rush of wasps as they flew past her created a breeze that lifted the strands of hair from her face. She hardly noticed the few stings of wasps too eager in their freedom.

The Queen’s shrieks of pain and outra
ge filled the room and Celeste raised her head to see the beautiful woman covered in angry wasps. Glimpses of the Queen revealed red and swollen flesh and Celeste knew that she had triumphed. She may have died in the process, but she had triumphed.

With a shaky laugh, she felt her legs give out and she crumpled to the floor. It had to be almost eight, still four hours before Genevieve was expected to hear from her.
Adam wasn’t going to make it in time to save her. It didn’t matter anymore, she freed the
Apocritae
and Adam would be able to regain control of the Council. The world would continue on as it had before.

Her body slumped to the side, unable to remain
upright in a sitting position. The scratches would have been annoying but she would have been able to endure them until she could find help. The cuts along her side, her arm, her cheek, were a different matter altogether; they were going to be the death of her. With the last of her strength, she willed the wasps away. It wouldn’t do to have them sting the person who came in to find them, the person delegated to clean up the mess of two bloodied and broken Queens.

"You have not won yet, child," the Queen's broken voice cackled throughout the room. It devolved into a coughing fit and Celeste could see the shudders wracking her thin body. "My children wait on the other side of that door; once you are dead they shall come in and heal me. All of your efforts will have been in vain."

Celeste closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath; it hurt to breathe. It hurt to move but she had to do both. In a moment; first she could do something that hurt a little less: summon her sharp dagger. With her eyes closed, she muttered the words beneath her breath, curling her fingers around the hilt as the weight settled in her hand. On the verge of passing out, her grip loosened for a moment and the blade began to slip before her hands twitched. She clenched her fingers around the handle once more and took another shuddering breath.

Staggering to her feet, she leaned against the wall as the room spun around her.
The Queen was all the way on the other side of the room and Celeste had to plunge her dagger into the bitch's chest; how on earth was she going to make it when she was ready to lie down and die?

In detached horror, she watched as the Queen struggled to her feet as well, her once beautiful face a mask of blistered and bloodied welts. Her left eye was little more than a black slit and her right eye was swollen completely shut. Her red mouth was bloated almost to the point of bursting, her lips cracked and bleeding. A dagg
er appeared in her hand as well as an imitation of a smile curled her fat lips.

Celeste imagined she looked even worse.

Swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing the blood that stained her face, Celeste stumbled a step, trying to keep her legs under her as she made forward movement across the room. The gash along her side throbbed in a dull ache, the cut along her cheek stung as sweat dripped into it and the half a dozen or so wasp stings along her neck and back burned. She forced herself to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, on accomplishing her goal before she gave into the need to pass out.

Putting a foot down, her leg gave out and she crashed to her knees on the floor.
Pain shot up her thighs and down her spine as her teeth clacked together from the impact and tears welled in her eyes. Breathing heavily, she stayed on her hands and knees, willing the new agony to subside so she could move once more.

The Queen's cackling laughter grated on her ears, "You cannot win, child."

Celeste's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she raised her eyes and met the Queen's one good eyes. "I'm prepared to die, Azaerlyn, but I'm taking you with me."

The Queen huffed out an incredulous laugh as she nodded toward the dagger in Celeste's hand, staggering forward a step or
two herself. "With what? That tarnished dagger? Even if you plunge it into my heart I will not die."

Celeste
closed her eyes once more, letting out a shuttering breath, letting all of her pain go until she couldn't feel anything at all; until she was numb. She just had to do this one last thing and then Auberon and Adamanteros would be free forever. A new Queen may eventually come along. Or maybe Adamanteros could restructure the entire system and become the
Apocritae
king.

Pushing herself to her feet, she swayed as she found her legs once more. With steely determination, she lurched forward inch by inch.
The Queen staggered forward as well, holding her dagger out in front of her as if it could stop Celeste. But Celeste was already so battered and broken what was one more knife wound? With grim resolution, she slunk closer to the Queen. Since she was already dead she no longer cared what tomorrow might bring, just so long as the Queen wasn't going to be waking up either.

"My children will heal me," the Queen sneered with conviction, stumbling over her feet but somehow managing to remain upright.
Mere feet separated them; mere moments until their hearts stopped beating.

Smiling grimly, Celeste tilted her chin up, sliding the edge of the blade against the laceration on her cheek, coating the metal in her molten blood. "Not this time,
Your Majesty."

With the last of her strength, she
surged forward and felt the Queen's blade slide into her gut as her blade slipped into the Queen's black heart. Celeste collapsed against Azaerlyn and in the heartbeat before they fell, she rasped into the Queen's ear, "Now we are both dead."

“Why?”
the Queen choked out in a harsh, wrecked voice. The former Queen. Celeste was Queen now, at least for a few more minutes.

“Because I could,” Celeste rasped,
rolling off the other woman and onto her back. With effort and a pained grunt she managed to pull the Queen's dagger from her side, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thunk. Turning her head to the side, she opened her eyes and saw the hideous face of the once exquisite and perfect Queen and she smiled. Letting her eyelids drift back shut, she huffed out a laugh, wincing as pain shot through her. “I did it to free… to free your sons; to free the
Apocritae
.”

“My children love me,” the Queen protested
haughtily. Even on the verge of death she was still proud.

"Oh, shut up," Celest
e muttered, so weak her words were mere puffs of air.

From far away, Celeste heard the secret door slide open. Opening her eyes, she watched as
Adam ran into the room, rage and anguish carved into his face. He turned his head towards the Queen – the former Queen – and she smiled, “Adamanteros, my son, I knew you’d come. Pull this cursed blade from chest and heal me; save me, Adamanteros. Kill the girl and save me.”