The Impostor Queen (34 page)

Sig runs his hand through his blond hair. “I didn't—I wasn't—” His eyes narrow and he stares at me. “I only meant to wrest control from the elders. I could tell the girl on the throne wasn't wielding the magic, and I wanted everyone to know it. And then I felt this insane rush of power inside me.”

The others flick the reins and set their horses into motion, moving us farther from the city wall. The wail of horns and cries of terror still rise into the sky, and the air above Kupari is smoky, lit by torches below. I can smell the panic of my people. The memory of the Saadella's face as she screamed for her father will not leave my mind. I want to jump from this horse, climb over the city wall, find her, and protect her from what's coming. But Jouni's grip on me is iron as he steers his mount along the trail.

Sig and Tuuli ride alongside us, but he's in front now. I watch Sig's booted feet nudge at the horse's flanks. “Elli had something to do with it,” he tells the others. “She told me she absorbs magic, but she was lying—she does the opposite.”

“What in stars are you talking about?” Usko asks.

“She was touching me,” Sig says, his voice taking on that shaky, excited energy once again. “And when I took control of the fire, it was like I could do anything with it. Whatever I wanted.”

Rage courses through me. “You killed an innocent girl!” I shout, my voice breaking with each of the horse's steps.

“Innocent?” Sig snaps. “Please. She was helping the elders deceive the people.”

My body convulses with sorrow. “They hurt her! I
knew
her.” The sobs choke me.

“What?” Shock turns Sig's voice hoarse.

“She was my handmaiden.” My first love, my first protector, my truest friend. I can't stop thinking of her face, her smile, her bright eyes. The way she was before she gave up everything for me.

We ride in heavy silence until we reach a clearing, through which a little stream burbles, and by quiet consent, the wielders dismount and lead their horses to it. All we have is the moonlight, which paints its white glow along the bare branches of the trees above us. The air is warm, but I know that's from the fire wielders. Tuuli and Mikko, ice wielders both, are shivering, rubbing their arms. Jouni pulls me off his horse and holds me as I stumble. “What do you want me to do with her?”

Sig pushes his hood back. “Get her some water. Offer her food. Make her comfortable.”

Jouni's mouth draws tight, but he guides me to sit down and then obeys. Sig squats in front of me. The moonlight glints off the blade of a knife that he's twirling between his fingers. “Now tell me everything you held back,” he says quietly. “You say I killed that girl—but you know you had something to do with it.”

I draw my knees to my chest and bow my head over them. “I had nothing to do with it.” What a lie. But I can't face the truth, that I was the sword that cut Mim down. It's so cruel. She's the last person I'd ever want to hurt. Elder Leevi and his priests were different. They were trying to kill Oskar. And when Oskar struck, I felt fear, but not this terrible, piercing guilt. Now, though . . . Am I really cursed like this? To be a mindless tool in the hands of powerful wielders?

I think I'd rather die.

Sig nudges my chin up. “I felt it, Elli. You grabbed my hand right as I was reaching for the fire. And what I did . . .” He lets out a trembling chuckle. “I've never felt anything like that. With that kind of power, we could take the temple. We could rule it.”

I shake my head. “I won't help you.”

His long fingers close around my throat, and he pulls me toward him. His bottomless brown eyes meet mine. “I can feel it as soon as my skin touches yours,” he whispers, his lips sliding along my cheek until his mouth is against my ear. “If I wanted to, I could set this entire forest aflame.”

“I hate you,” I say in a ragged voice. “And I'll die before I let you control me.”

His eyes take on a golden, flickering glow. “You can't stop me,” he says softly, his thumb stroking down the column of my throat. “Even now, with all that contempt, I could use you to rain fire on the outlands.”

My eyes sting. “You won't let others control you, but you're willing to do it to me.”

He grimaces, his glowing pupils shining with emotion. “Think of your handmaiden. If the temple dwellers hurt her and used her as you say, then don't you think they all deserve to die?”

Perhaps. But the memory of the acolytes' kindness in my worst moments can't be forgotten. The face of the Saadella won't leave my mind. The screams of the people won't fall silent. And knowing the Soturi now realize we're helpless makes the stakes impossibly high. I can't seek revenge without thinking about all of that. Would Sig listen if I told him? Would he care?

I look into his eyes, and all I see is fire. He wants blood and vengeance. He wants to take the temple for himself, not the people.

And I have to get away from him. “I'll think about it,” I murmur. “Now let me go.”

His warm hand falls away, and the cold air rushes in and caresses my throat. “We could be allies. We could do it together.”

“I need to rest.”

Sig's jaw flexes. “So do I. But tomorrow we're gathering more wielders, and we're going back. There will never be another chance like this one.”

I curl onto my side, pulling the hood of my cloak to protect my cheek from the rotting leaves that will be my bed tonight. All I can think is how different Sig and Oskar are. Both so powerful, but one is ruled by hurt and hatred, while the other is ruled by a thirst for peace. For
life
. I squeeze my eyes shut and huddle within the furry folds of my stolen cloak as Sig and the others make camp, building a small fire and passing around the supplies they snatched from the hunters. They talk about what Sig did and speculate about whether touching me would work for all of them. Jouni wants to try, but Sig tells him he'll have to wait until tomorrow. When Jouni comes over to offer me a biscuit and a slice of meat, I pretend that I'm asleep until he goes away.

You could be their most powerful asset—or their worst enemy.
That's what Raimo told me. But how can I be a feared enemy when I have no power of my own? When I don't have a say in how I'm used? Frustration grinds within me, becoming an endless ache of despair. Over and over I remember the horror in Mim's eyes as the fire descended. I swear, a moment before it hit, there was a spark of relief in her face, but it doesn't lessen the guilt at all. She defied the elders and helped me escape. Now I know why she never came to meet me that morning. I imagine her, chained in the catacombs, the lash of the whip against her soft skin. For weeks I've been nestled safe in a cave, growing stronger by the day, free to lose my foolish heart to someone else—because of her. And all this time, she's been suffering—because of me. My fists are so tight that I'm shaking. If I had known, if I could have taken her place, I would have.

And if I can be used to kill someone I love, I don't think I should exist.

Sig and the others go quiet after a while. The woods are silent but for the lonely hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance. The noise in my head is relentless, though. The Saadella's cries, the Kupari's despair. The air is frigid, making my toes numb and my right hand tremble with the stabbing pain the cold always brings. The temperature seems to drop with every minute that passes.

A quiet moan comes from across the clearing. I peek from my cloak. The still forms of the wielders are scattered near trees or by the fire. Usko is snoring now, as is Jouni. Mikko and Tuuli are wrapped around each other. And Sig . . . his white-blond hair makes him easy to spot. He's asleep far from the fire, shirtless on this winter night. His pale skin shines with sweat as smoke rises in lazy tendrils from the cloak on which he lies.

He's burning from the inside out. He's suffering like Oskar does, only from flames, not ice.

I could go to him and relieve his pain. I could take that inferno inside myself and tame it. He's asleep, unable to hold it back. I sit up. When he twists, caught in the fire, I see the silver scars on his back. The pain on his face almost draws me across the clearing.

But knowing his plans for tomorrow keeps me where I am.

I won't be used. I won't help him sow chaos and misery in the city. Carefully, I rise to my feet. My cloak makes almost no noise as I pull it from the damp earth. My fingers fist in the furry garment as I take a step backward. No one moves.

They probably assumed I wouldn't have the strength to run. Or maybe they know I have no place to go. But right now that doesn't matter, as long as I'm far from here. I take another step back. And then I turn around and tiptoe out of the clearing. I move slowly, terrified of waking the sleeping wielders. The farther I get, the colder the air, and I shiver as I pick my way along.

I hear the soft footfalls too late. Someone barrels into my back, and I fall forward as his hot hand slams over my mouth. “No you don't,” comes the deep sound of Jouni's voice. “Sig said I should watch out for you.” He chuckles. “Stars, I feel it. Exactly what Sig described.” His palm flashes hot against my skin and flames shoot from between his fingers. “Who says I can't manifest fire?”

My fingernails tear at the soft ground as Jouni yanks me up. I slap and kick with everything inside me, my screams stifled by his merciless grip. From the warm bursts of air around me, I think Jouni's trying to subdue me with heat, but when he realizes it's not working, his arms clamp hard and hurtful around me. He wrenches my head back. “There's a stout length of rope back at camp, and it's got your name on it.”

He starts to drag me backward, but then he staggers suddenly and drops me. I hit the ground face-first, and my hood flops over my head. I push it back to see a dark shape towering over Jouni's hunched form. I shove myself to my hands and knees just as the fire wielder lunges, wrapping his arms around his attacker's waist. But the man drives his elbow between Jouni's shoulder blades, dropping him to the ground. Jouni rolls over as the other man descends—and closes his large hand over Jouni's throat.

“Stop fighting me,” Oskar whispers as he leans close to Jouni's face. “You have to stop, Jouni.”

But Jouni doesn't. Pinned to the forest floor by Oskar's powerful grip, he kicks his legs up, thrashing wildly, trying in vain to shout for his friends. His palms sizzle as he clutches at Oskar's cloak, filling the air with the scent of burning fur.

Oskar shushes him, the sound full of desperation. “
Please
stop fighting,” he begs as Jouni's eyes go wide. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Jouni's fingers push through the holes he's burned in Oskar's sleeves. His knuckles are bloodless. The glow in his eyes slowly dims. His heels leave deep grooves in the dirt, and then his legs go limp. But his arms stay anchored to Oskar's until the ice wielder pulls away. I cover my mouth as Oskar rises to his feet, leaving Jouni on his back, his eyes wide and frosted over, his arms outstretched. The top half of his body is frozen solid. “I'm sorry, Jouni,” Oskar mutters. He turns around, his jaw clenched.

“Oskar . . .”

He holds his hand out. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. “Can you run?”

I nod. He tugs my hand and breaks into a jog, and I lift my skirt and follow, praying the struggle didn't wake the others. I'm shaking with what I just saw, with the knowledge that Oskar has killed again—and with the wretched understanding that he has done this terrible thing
for me
. My heart pounds in time with our footsteps. Finally we reach a wide trail leading south out of the woods, and I squeeze his hand. I'm stronger than I used to be, but I can't run forever. Oskar slows. “Freya saw you take the road leading to the city. And then she watched as Sig ran you down.”

“How did you find me?” He found me.
He found me.

“I went to Sig's camp, but it was deserted, so I followed the trail to the city. I had just reached the square when the fire . . .” He pauses when he feels the tension in my grip.

“Sig did it,” I say in a choked voice. “But he was holding my hand. It was like this morning, with the ice. It was my fault, Oskar. And we killed someone I loved very much.” I double over, curling around the pain of it.

Oskar touches my back. “Who?”

As best I can, I explain about Mim, who she was to me, how she saved me, and what I believe happened after. Part of me wonders how Oskar will react to my admission of love for my handmaiden, but he stays silent, his cool hand laid across my spine.

“This wasn't your fault, Elli,” he says when I finish. “I saw you across the square after it happened. I heard the desperation in your screams and read the horror in your eyes—” He lets out a breath. “I suppose both of us are responsible for hurting those around us, but I also believe neither of us would if we could avoid it.”

“Does that matter, if the result is the same?”

His hand falls away from my back. “I have to believe it does.”

I straighten, drawn up by the pain in his words. I understand the necessity of that belief, especially for Oskar. There's no way I'm taking it from him. “Then it does,” I say quietly.

He starts forward again, at a sure and steady pace. “To be honest, even if it didn't, there was no way I was letting you go.”

Up ahead the moon shines down on a wide expanse of marsh grass. We're almost out of the woods. “Why?”

He lets out a hard, hollow bark of laughter. “Why did you leave?”

“Why are you answering my question with a question?”

He smirks as I repeat his challenge from our last argument, then pulls the string from his messy hair and reties it so it isn't in his face. “You did it for us, didn't you? You left because you thought you could keep the priests away. You were going to give yourself up to them.”