The Mirror King (Orphan Queen) (34 page)

“PRINCE COLIN? YOU’RE
sure?”

Sergeant Ferris nodded. “He has part of the Indigo Army and Aecorian loyalists.”

I’d suspected that much, but I hadn’t expected his attack to come immediately.

“Where is his army now?” I asked.

“The lowcity, engaged with the Red Militia.”

“The Red Militia?”

Sergeant Ferris dipped his head. “Yes, Your Majesty. The Red Militia is also attacking.”

“Saints.” That was just what I needed—both enemies attacking my city at once. “Let them fight it out for a while, but clear the civilians. Move them into the castle if you need to. Fill the ballrooms and staterooms. Just get people to safety. Coordinate with Captain Rayner.” I frowned at Ferris’s and Oscar’s uniforms side by side. “I suppose Patrick’s people are wearing
red, and Prince Colin’s are wearing blue?”

Sergeant Ferris nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

For ten years, my world had been red against blue, but I could no longer tell my enemies by the colors they wore. “We need something,” I said. “Something that’s just ours.”

“Not ospreys, then?” Oscar crossed his arms.

“No. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Red Militia is using that. We need something else.” I hesitated, but it was the only thing. “Black knives. Use paint, ink, pitch—I don’t care. Put them on the fronts, backs, and sleeves of all of our people’s uniforms. We need to identify our friends.”

Sergeant Ferris’s eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “Your Majesty—”

“When we first met, you asked if I was Black Knife.” Noise from the ongoing ball punctuated my pause. “Yes. I am Black Knife. And so is your king.”

Oscar’s mouth had dropped open, and Sergeant Ferris turned ashen.

“You have your orders, Sergeant. Live through this and you can change that to lieutenant. I know the queen and king.”

“And Black Knife, apparently,” Oscar said as Sergeant Ferris ran through the hall. “What do we do next?”

“I need you to gather the Ospreys and get them ready for what they do best. Paige can prepare the castle. Connor and Ronald need to be in triage to help the physicians. Put the others where you see fit. Some should help paint knives on our army so we’re ready.”

“I should stay with you. I’m your bodyguard tonight.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oscar Gray. I have taken care of myself for
ten years. I’ve let you and others follow me around for the last few months because that’s what queens do, but right now you’re needed elsewhere.”

He scowled. “What will you be doing?”

“I’m going to talk to Patrick. He knew Prince Colin was going to attack tonight. I’m going to find out what else he knows.”

“I’ll send someone for you when I can.”

“Don’t you dare!”

But Oscar was already trotting away.

With the skirt of my gown hiked up, I ran for the prison.

Patrick had answers.

I shouldn’t have put off his warning.

I could apologize. Admit he’d been right. Anything to make him tell me everything he knew about Prince Colin’s plans.

As I descended the stairs, a sense of wrongness crept around me. I slowed and listened.

The prison was
quiet
. No guards grumbling that they were missing the ball. No prisoners muttering that they were being mistreated. Just the faint acrid scent of wraith and blood.

When I reached the lower stairs, the copper stench grew stronger. I swallowed a few times to keep everything down.

And then I stepped off the final stair and into the guard room.

Sergeant Wallace and two others were slumped over their desks, blood dripping onto the floor. It came from their fingers, their desks, their hair. No one moved. I hardly breathed as I scanned the room, but nothing else was out of order.

Just the three dead men.

The door to the cell block hung open, only relative darkness waiting beyond.

I kept one eye on the door as I moved from guard to guard, checking for pulses I knew I wouldn’t find. They’d all been stabbed in the back of the neck with some kind of large, messy weapon. They hadn’t had time to call for help or defend themselves.

I’d have to tell Theodore Wallace’s mother.

I blinked away a tear as I slipped into the cell block, lit only by half-empty oil lamps. Listening hard for movement, I pulled two lamps off the wall and held them away from my body. They weren’t much of a weapon, but if there was someone here, I could do some damage.

But every cell I passed was empty. The rustle of my dress was the only sound.

And then, a gasp. “My queen! You’re here!”

The shock made me reach for a dagger that wasn’t on me, and I dropped my lamp. Oil gushed from the broken glass, and flame
whoosh
ed
up and around me.

Chrysalis erupted from Patrick’s cell and scooped me away from the fire. The other lamp shattered as I tried to scramble away.

“Be
careful
,” Chrysalis scolded as he released me in the guard station. Then he noticed the bodies. “Did you do this?” His tone fit somewhere between alarmed and impressed.

“No.” I shoved him away and moved toward the stairwell. Heat bloomed from the back of the cell block. The fire was contained there for now, but it would grow if I didn’t find someone
to extinguish it. “I was going to ask you if you’d killed them.”

“No!” He looked offended. “You don’t like it when I kill people, so I’m trying to stop.”

“Then what are you doing here?” I gestured around the room. “Three dead guards. Empty prison cells. What happened? Where’s Patrick?”

Chrysalis pressed his mouth into a line. “Patrick called for me. I heard him, even though he was only whispering my name. He whispered that you were in danger, but he could help. We talked.”

My stomach dropped. Just what I needed: two people who’d do
anything
for me to have a discussion. “What did you talk about?”

“He said Prince Colin was coming to get you, and he knew where all Colin’s people were going to be. He just needed to get out so he could coordinate.”

“You could have come to me, Chrysalis.”

The wraith boy shook his head. “I wanted to, but Patrick said you wouldn’t do what was necessary to stop them. But he would. He said he’d be the one who did bad things so you didn’t have to—and so I didn’t have to. He knew I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

“He said you’d finally taken your crown, and he was going to help you keep it no matter the cost.”

“Saints,” I muttered.

“You’re not happy that he cares about you that much?” The wraith boy frowned toward the hall where smoke was just beginning to billow out. “He said you liked his help.”

“No. Not for a long time. I don’t like the things he does.” The smoke grew thicker as it poured from the hall. “Let’s go. Up the stairs.”

I’d taken three steps when I realized Chrysalis wasn’t following.

“What are you doing?”

He was busy scowling at his feet, and for the first time I realized he still wore the white tailcoats from the coronation. “I wanted to make you happy. I let him out of the cell, and all his friends, because he promised he was going to help you stay queen, and that’s what I wanted, too. I agreed to wait here and tell you his message because he knew you’d come to see him. But I was wrong. I did something bad.”

“It’s fi—” I exhaled through my teeth. It wasn’t fine. It was better that Prince Colin and Patrick were fighting each other, certainly, but this reborn kingdom with its untested queen and heartbroken king didn’t need a battle against two armies.

“I’m going to make it right.” Chrysalis looked up at me, an idea bright in his eyes. “I know how to stop them.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.”

Chrysalis vanished.

A PAIR OF
Queen’s Guards discovered me just moments after Chrysalis vanished. Matthew went for help, while Cael announced he’d escort me to my room.

“No, I’m needed elsewhere.”

“It’s for your own safety.” He motioned at the knife painted onto his uniform, as if I needed proof he was on my side. “Oscar Gray promised you’d come without issues.”

Oscar Gray was going on floor-scrubbing duty for the rest of his life.

“I don’t need to be safe. I need to find the wraith boy. You have no idea what he’ll do.” Neither did I, though, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

“All the more reason to make sure you’re safe.”

That was terrible logic, given Chrysalis listened only to me, but I let out a resigned, annoyed sigh, and went with him.

My vermilion cape fluttered behind me as I strode through
the halls, which were filling with people wearing black knives on their uniforms, suits, and ball gowns; no one wanted to be mistaken for an enemy. When they saw me, whispers spread like fire.

“Black Knife,” they murmured. “The queen is Black Knife.”

“One of them anyway. Can you believe . . .”

“Is it true?” asked Cael. “That you and King Tobiah are Black Knife?”

I eyed him askance. “Hand me your sword and find out.”

He felt his hip for his weapon, but I’d already unbuckled the sheath and had the blade half drawn before he noticed. “Please don’t tell anyone you did that.”

“As long as you understand the only reason you got me here was because I let you.” I opened the door to the queen’s suite and handed back his sword. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. We have a lot of work to do.”

“I should check the rooms to make sure there’s no danger.”

“If you must.” Unbelievable how much unnecessary work went into making sure I was safe. But I allowed Cael to glance through the chambers, and when he left, I caught the expected
clank
of the door being locked.

That was pointless, because the lock was on my side.

But that was followed by a
thump
as he wedged a doorstop into a crack at the bottom.

“Hey!” I flipped the lock and pushed at the door, but that only forced the stop tighter. “What if there’s a fire?”

“Then I’ll remove the doorstop.” Cael patted the door. “Oscar Gray’s orders.”

I kicked the door and rattled it again, but my protest was
useless. There was nothing that would inspire him to release me. Not when everyone in the kingdom had worked so hard to get back their queen.

“This is ridiculous.” I marched to the center of my parlor and glared around, but there was nothing even remotely like a battering ram. I could slide something under the door to remove the wedge, but perhaps it was best to let him think he’d won for now.

After a few weak attempts to open the door, I put on a show of giving up, and then moved deeper into the queen’s suite, making my own inspections inside the wardrobes, under the bed, and up the chimney. There was no one, but sending someone to keep me occupied wouldn’t be beyond Patrick.

I shimmied out of my silk ball gown, piece by piece. Cape, bodice, skirt. The whole thing puddled on the floor like blood. Next, my hair came out of the bun, and went into a plain, tight braid.

Finally, I dragged my bag from under the bed and put on the only color I wanted to wear tonight: black.

The soft fabric slid cool over my skin, familiar and comfortable. Stockings, trousers, and knee-high boots followed. I put on my belt and baldric, and secured the sword on my back.

This felt right. I felt like myself. Like Black Knife.

Mask and gloves in hand, I strode toward the balcony door. And stopped short.

The doors between the king’s and queen’s suites were open, and Black Knife stood there with his sword across his back and his mask tucked into his belt.

“It’s like looking into a mirror,” he said.

“Except I comb my hair occasionally.”

He smirked and brushed a dark strand from his eyes. “Are you going somewhere? And do you want company?”

“It might be awkward that we’re wearing the same outfit.”

“These are my best clothes.”

“I agree. As nice as you looked earlier this evening, I prefer you like this. Much handsomer. You’re invited.”

His lower lip pushed out in a pout. “You only like me because of my sense of fashion.”

“Now that doesn’t sound like Optimistic Knife.” Tension eased inside me. I’d missed this. I’d missed
him
. “I guess you heard about the pair of armies down there”—I waved toward the balcony—“and immediately got sent to your room.”

“Hundreds of years ago, kings and queens rode into battle with their people. Now when there’s danger, monarchs are shuffled away, too precious to risk breaking. But what makes us leaders if we don’t lead?” He strode to the balcony and pulled open the door. Cool wind whipped inside. I ducked out first.

“Did you find James?”

His tone darkened. “No. I’m not sure where he is.”

“Probably securing the castle against invasion. The good news is that I think you made him invincible.”

“Perhaps. As long as he has you to awaken him.” Tobiah paused. “And both of us to keep him alive. I don’t know what happens to him if either of us dies. Maybe he’d drop lifeless, or disappear completely.”

I opened my mouth, but there was nothing to say. I didn’t know about Tobiah’s power, but I knew what happened to animated objects when their masters died.

I busied myself putting on my gloves.

“Do you remember the last time we were up here together?” Tobiah slipped past me and stood at the balcony rail. Being Black Knife gave him strength and focus.

I knew, because it did the same for me.

“I remember,” I said.

“You had just saved my life.”

“And you were about to save mine.”

“We were so young.” Black Knife—Tobiah—leaned toward me. His arm brushed mine.

With both of us dressed like this, it was so easy to forget that we weren’t still friends trying to pretend we were enemies. It would have been so easy to think of myself as a thief with a flair for forgery, and him as the annoying vigilante who’d done me the biggest favor in the world.

He dropped his eyes to our hands, black gloves on stone, our small fingers barely touching. “This feels like ten years ago. Both of us up here. My people down there, fighting yours. I hate this, our lives coming back to what people will do for a prince, or a queen.”

“Or just someone they love, no titles necessary.” I couldn’t imagine Patrick actually loving anyone, let alone me, but the wraith boy possessed terrifying devotion. Where was he now?

Aecor City spread below, lights blazing under the cold starlight. People surged through the streets and castle courtyard, but not to fight. They wanted refuge.

“We have to go down there,” I said. “We have to stop the fighting.”

He faced me, one hand on the mask tucked into his belt.
“This is your city. Where do we start?”

“The lowcity. There.” I pointed toward the marshes in the east. “That’s all the information I managed to get. You said Prince Colin had about five thousand men. It’s hard to guess at the Red Militia’s numbers, unless we find Claire.”

“Your Militia informant.”

“That’s right. She was to join the Queen’s Guard this afternoon, but—”

“I showed up. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I wanted to say more, but no words would come. Not when our relationship was so uncertain. “Let’s start near the lowcity gate. There are several courtyards and parks in that area, appearing every time old buildings collapse. The ground is too unstable to support new buildings without magic.”

“A likely battleground.” He slipped his mask from his belt and started to put it on.

“I should warn you,” I said. “Four armies. Two colors. I needed a way to identify our people, so I told Sergeant Ferris to paint the same symbol on all of his soldiers’ fronts, backs, and sleeves.”

Tobiah lowered his mask. “And?”

My heart thumped, and I hated myself for giving away his secret. “I told him to use a black knife. It was my only idea. Now everyone is painting knives on their clothes, even civilians.”

His eyebrows lifted, and his scowl shifted into a grin. “That means there are
thousands
of Black Knives moving toward Colin’s and Patrick’s armies?”

“In a way.” He wasn’t angry?

No. He was
laughing
. It was a soft, weary laugh, but it
warmed his face and eyes. “That’s wonderful, Wil.”

“Really?”

“I always wanted Black Knife to become a symbol of hope in Skyvale. I didn’t want others to take up vigilantism, which did happen on occasion, but I wanted to inspire people. I wanted them to know someone was watching over them. They didn’t have to know who it was, just that someone cared.” Wind caught his hair, and he smoothed it back. “I was glad when you took it up. It was a relief knowing Black Knife was still taking care of my city.”

Now that city was gone, but we still had a chance to save mine.

I pulled my mask over my face. “Time to go, Optimistic Knife.”

“As long as no one else takes
that
name.” He grinned as he put on his mask. But before we could start down the wall, an acrid-scented heat rolled in.

White wraithy mist poured over Tangler Bay and the Red Bay, smothering the southern tip of the highcity within seconds. A deafening
crack
sounded, like bones snapping, and hundreds of thousands of glass shards exploded into the air.

The cliff-side mirrors had done nothing to protect the city.

Nothing at all.

“No.” Tobiah swayed on his feet, and his breath puffed out his mask in small bursts. I took his shoulders to steady him, and he turned his face against my neck with an angry sob. “Not again.”

“It’s Chrysalis.” My words tasted like ash. “He’s returned.”