The Mirror King (Orphan Queen) (38 page)

“IT’S NOT GOING
to be enough.” That sounded like Chrysalis.

My head throbbed as I climbed back into consciousness. Melanie’s hands were cool on my cheeks and throat as she checked my pulse, which meant I couldn’t have been out for long. A few minutes. My head rested on her knees.

“What do you mean?” Melanie looked to her left, and the breeze caught her hair. “It has to be enough.” Her face was fuzzy.

No matter how deeply I breathed, I couldn’t clear my vision of the blackness simmering at the edges, fading into gray in the center. It would be a miracle if I could stand.

“You poured magic into the barrier, but not enough.” Chrysalis stood on the wall around the overlook, staring into the dark waters of the bay below. The white suit he’d worn to my coronation was battered and bloody, torn in a hundred different places. “This won’t work without more magic.”

I pushed myself into a sitting position, swaying. “When did you get here?”

The wraith boy flashed a smile my way. “Just a moment ago, my queen. I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Then this was pointless?” Melanie jabbed a finger at the bay. “Magic went into the barrier while the metal was molten.
Now
what do we do?”

I pried my hand open, stretching my fingers around the anchor scale.

Dizziness still swarmed my head, but my vision cleared a little. Around us, guards, nobles, and Ospreys stared on, their expressions a mix of fear and uncertainty. The queen mother and her sister moved to the fore of the crowd, closer to their sons.

Everyone was scared, which meant I should stand up and take charge.

James and Tobiah edged closer so that when I climbed to my feet and let them take most of my weight, it wasn’t obvious I needed help.

Chrysalis stepped off the rail and strode toward me, his movements mimicking mine after all this time spent together. “My queen.” An odd gentleness filled his voice. “I promised to protect you from the wraith, that I’d never let it hurt you.”

“I remember.” I brought my fingertips close to one of the burns on his face, but didn’t quite touch. He went so still he was nearly lifeless. “You did protect me tonight. When I told you to control the wraith, you did that, too.”

His eyes never shifted from mine. “But you also said it isn’t just you anymore. It’s the entire kingdom, and you need to protect everyone here, too.”

“That’s right.” I dropped my hand and stepped backward, carefully, because my balance was still weak. Behind me, one of the boys breezed his hands over my shoulder and waist, keeping me steady.

Chrysalis seemed to study me, or memorize me, and then he said, “I can do it. If you want.”

Yes, of course I wanted him to protect Aecor.

“I’m made of wraith,” he said. “Same as the beasts they used for the barrier. If I—” He shifted his weight and lowered his eyes. “You gave me life for a little while. I had the chance to experience something incredible, even though I made everything harder for you. But maybe this time I could help you get what you want—what you
truly
want.”

Silence fell across the overlook as people realized what he meant.

“You would sacrifice yourself for Aecor?”

“I would sacrifice myself for
you
, my queen. If that’s what you want.” Chrysalis tilted his head. “I’ve made many wrong decisions in my desire to serve you.” His gaze flickered toward Tobiah. “I’ve done many things that, now, I understand were bad. Even tonight, freeing Patrick and bringing the wraith. I thought only to help you. I thought I could control something uncontrollable. I don’t want to make more mistakes. I don’t want to cost you anything else.”

“So you’re waiting for me to order you to do this.” My throat tightened.

He nodded as the castle shuddered again. “I know you will make the right decision.”

No.

It was an impossible order to give.

It was the kind of order queens had to give all the time.

But I’d
made
him. I’d brought him to life. Unwittingly, yes, but now it was my responsibility to teach him and care for him and ensure he did the right thing.

“I won’t make you,” I whispered. “When I bring something to life, it’s never sentient. Almost never. It never has a choice but to do what I order.”

Clothes brushed behind me, like James and Tobiah exchanging glances. But I wouldn’t look. I wouldn’t give anyone here a reason to question Captain Rayner and his miraculous life. It was his secret to tell, when he was ready. If.

A low rumble filled the air: the wraith still struggling against my mirror.

“You’re sentient, Chrysalis. You have a choice. You said you’ve made wrong decisions in the past, and I know you have. Many of us have paid the price of those decisions. But this one is about you, and your life. I won’t take that decision away from you.” He was a person, not a tool. I could no longer treat him as one.

The wraith boy bowed his head. “You honor me.”

“We don’t have much time,” someone said.

I lifted my hand, signaling the crowd to be quiet.

Chrysalis pressed his palms to his chest. “I’ll do it. For you.”

Someone breathed praise to all the saints.

“But I won’t be enough. Not to make the kind of mirror you need.”

A small noise escaped me. “What?”

His shoulders slumped. “I can make myself part of the
barrier; you’ve already linked it all together. But it wouldn’t last. Liadia poured so much magic into their barrier and I can provide only a fraction of that. I’m just wraith, after all. I’m more about destruction than anything.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

Someone in the crowd was crying. Another cursed him for offering false hope. And all around us, the castle rumbled and wraith shone bright across the city, waiting, straining. There was no way to know how much longer the mirror would last.

“What about me?”

Everyone looked at James.

“What?” Tobiah grabbed his cousin by the jacket. “Don’t say that.”

Murmurs fluttered through the crowd.
“What’s he talking about?”

“The king’s cousin is made of wraith?”

“No!” Kathleen Rayner pushed through the crowd. “James—”

He placed one hand on his cousin’s shoulder, and the other on his mother’s. “This is a very long story that Tobiah will have to tell.”

Tobiah shook his head. “I won’t let you.”

“Why not? What makes me any different from him?” James pointed at the wraith boy.

“You’re my friend. My cousin. I still need you.”

“Your friend, maybe, but not your cousin. That boy died ten years ago.”

Lady Rayner’s eyes went wide, and tears dripped down her cheeks. The queen mother joined the group, standing by Tobiah’s
side. “What do you mean that boy died?” she asked.

My heart climbed into my throat as I looked between them. In the audience, people pressed their hands to their mouths and whispered uncomfortably.

“You made me because you missed the first James.” A faint, sad smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “You asked Wilhelmina to bring me to life because you needed me, and I’ve spent every day of my life protecting you, because that was my purpose.”

“
What
are you talking about?” Lady Rayner grabbed James’s arm. “You’re my son. You’re my child. You’re not like that creature at all.”

Chrysalis dropped his head. “He’s not like me, but he’s not human, either. He’s made of magic. He’s stronger than I am. Better.”

“
Shut up
,” Tobiah growled. “Don’t encourage him.”

“Is that true?” Francesca asked. “Just—just explain, please.”

Tears shone in James’s eyes as he repeated a shorter version of Tobiah’s story, outing the king’s secret, my involvement, and his own existence. “That’s why I healed so quickly after the Inundation. Because I’m not human. Not really.”

Others tried to close in, but Melanie and a handful of guards held them back. I wanted to help, but not all the buzzing was from the wraith; my head spun with magic being sucked out of me. James, Chrysalis, the mirror, the barrier: something had to go.

Sandcliff Castle shuddered in agreement.

“Earlier tonight,” James said, “I asked if I made my own decisions. You said I did. Let me make this one now.”

“I can’t lose you too, James.”

“It’s not just you anymore, Tobiah.” James glanced at me, Melanie, and everyone standing on the overlook, praying for a miracle to stop the wraith. “It’s the entire kingdom. There’s only a little of the world left. Someone has to take care of it.”

Tobiah looked at me for help. “Say something.”

“I can’t.” A sob lodged in my throat. “I don’t want to lose him, either, but what kind of queen would I be if I gave Chrysalis a choice, but not James? What kind of friend?”

“A friend who doesn’t want to lose one of the people they love most?” Tobiah lifted his palms in supplication. “I need your
help
, Wil. Command him. Change his mind.”

I shook my head, just slightly. Everything spun. “He’s not mine to command. He never has been. He’s a person, Tobiah.”

Tobiah hissed through gritted teeth, lifting his eyes to the sky.

“Would I be enough?” James asked Chrysalis. “If I did this with you, would Aecor be safe? Would the barrier work like Mirror Lake?”

Chrysalis bit his lip.

“Tell the truth,” I said.

The wraith boy nodded. “The two of us, yes. We’d be stronger. There’s so much magic in you after all these years. You don’t know half of what you could do.”

“No.” Lady Rayner let out a long, low wail. “No, James.”

Tobiah blinked back tears. “How can you even know that?”

“I’m made of wraith.” Chrysalis offered him a sad smile. “I know what I wouldn’t touch.”

“All right,” James said. “What do we do?”

Tobiah grabbed James’s shoulders. “No. I forbid you. You can’t.”

The queen mother and her sister urged James to listen to his king, but his focus was all on Chrysalis’s instructions.

“We jump. We dive in and grab the barrier, and we push. My queen will need to command the barrier to accept us.”

Tobiah spun toward me. “Don’t do it. Don’t tell the barrier anything.”

James pressed a hand on his king’s shoulder. “Then I’ll be dead for nothing. It’s a long drop.”

“You’ve already been impaled. A drop won’t hurt you.”

James snorted a laugh. “I’m going to say good-bye, cousin. Please don’t deny me. Please.”

Tobiah threw his arms around James’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. “I can’t say good-bye.”

James hugged him back, both of them unguarded in this burst of affection. “Then say, ‘You’re welcome.’ You and Wil gave me ten years of life. You gave me family. You gave me purpose.”

“Then you’re welcome,” Tobiah murmured. “And thank
you
for—for everything. You were always there when I needed you.”

Quickly, James hugged his friends, his aunt, and his mother, pausing to whisper something in her ear. I couldn’t hear it, and the angle was wrong for me to read his lips, but whatever he said, she just touched his cheek and said she loved him.

He came to me last. “I think Oscar will make a good replacement for head of castle security. Or Ferris, if you want to send Oscar off to his estate when this is over.”

“Shut up.” My jaw trembled with exhaustion and grief, but I hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You were always real to him.
To me. To everyone who knew you.”

“Thank you.” He pulled away, unbuckled his sword sheath, and pressed it into Tobiah’s hands. Without a word, he moved toward the edge. “Coming, Chrysalis?”

The wraith boy had barely moved through all this, just stood there and watched. No one had wanted to hug him.

I did. Gently, I wrapped my arms around him. “If I could do it again,” I whispered, “I’d get to know you better.”

He didn’t respond, just joined James on the ledge, whispering instructions or assurances. I couldn’t tell.

Tears streaked down my face, cold against the wraith-heated night. Tobiah pressed himself against my side, and Melanie on the other. Everyone gathered around us, many openly weeping. We left a space between James and Chrysalis and us, like moving too close would shatter the moment as they stepped onto the railing.

“I can’t watch.” Tobiah spoke so that only I could hear.

“You must.” I slipped my ungloved hand into his, and the barrier piece pressed between us. “James’s biggest desire was always to protect you. That’s what he’s doing now. You must honor him.”

Tobiah gripped my hand so tightly it felt like my bones scraped together, but neither of us looked away as James and Chrysalis stepped off the rail and leapt into the Red Bay.

“Accept them
,” I whispered to the anchor scale.
“Let their magic be spread throughout the ring. Make their sacrifice matter.”

A double splash sounded.

The scale turned hot in my palm, scalding, but the sudden
relief was immeasurable. Burden lifted. The slow drain of magic I’d lived with for so long—it was gone.

My knees buckled, but Tobiah and Melanie held me up as white light speared the sky.

It stretched from the Red Bay, north to Tangler Bay, illuminating Snowhaven Bridge from beneath, and then beyond my sight. Cool, clean air came off the water, and thousands of stars appeared in the sky as the mirror cut through the haze of wraith.

“You did it.” Melanie lifted her face to the sky in wonder. “Between your mirror and the barrier, even the wraith in the city is burning away.”

It was glorious, yes, but as we all huddled together on Radiants’ Walk, I could only think about everything this victory had cost.

I KNOCKED ON
the door between my room and Tobiah’s.

“I’m here.”

Cautiously, I opened the door to find Tobiah sitting on the bottom corner of his bed, staring toward the balcony window. The curtains had been pushed back to reveal a spectacular view of the city.

“The wraith is gone,” I said.

He dropped his gaze to James’s sword lying across his knees.

“Colin’s and Patrick’s people were arrested. They shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Silence.

“Not that Melanie trusts we’ve seen the last of them. She’ll root out any lingering opposition.”

He didn’t move. He hadn’t bathed, or even changed out of his Black Knife clothes. He just sat there, slumped as he steeped in his grief. Tear tracks shone on his cheeks.

“This morning, I took a boat with Mel and Lieutenant Ferris. There’s a sheered-off edge on the opposite shore of Tangler Bay. It worked. The wraith can’t return.” I’d seen refugees crossing Snowhaven Bridge, taking rescue boats where the bridge hadn’t yet been repaired. “The castle wall is still silver. When I told Connor’s mirror to go back to sleep, it just stayed there.”

Now there was nothing magical draining me but the barrier; I couldn’t risk letting go of that without being sure the pieces would never be disturbed. It’d been simpler in Mirror Lake, which wasn’t connected to an entire ocean. But here, anything could happen to the scales.

So I held on to them, keeping the anchor scale in a pocket so I’d never forget.

“Did you sleep?” I asked.

“I can’t.” He curled his fingers around the sheathed sword. “Part of me wishes I could blame you. Or Chrysalis. Or anyone besides James, but it was his choice in the end, wasn’t it?”

My dress rustled as I crossed the room to stand beside him. “You’ve lost so much. It doesn’t seem fair that you should lose James, too. But yes, it was his choice. I think it was his way of proving he was real.”

“It’s interesting that he didn’t feel like the real one,” Tobiah said after a few minutes. “I knew him longer than I knew the first James. We got in trouble together. Had parties together. Complained about our parents together. When my father died, he was there for me, and when he was shot, I couldn’t leave his side. How he came into my life never made a difference. I cared only that he was
there
.”

“He’s still there. I know it’s not the same.” I touched his
shoulder and hated my own inadequate words. “Of course it’s not the same. But James was made of our magic, and you know the most basic law of magic.”

“It’s never created or destroyed. It simply changes forms.”

I nodded. “So that’s James out there.” I pulled the anchor scale from my pocket and unfolded my fingers around it. “And this is James in here. Just another form. And he’s doing the same thing he did for the last ten years: he’s protecting. You. Me. The kingdom.”

“We didn’t even win. Patrick and Colin are gone now, but the wraith is still out there. The Indigo Kingdom is gone, and so is everything beyond it. We didn’t stop the wraith, just found a way to hold it back.”

“Sometimes that’s as much as we can ask for,” I whispered. “We didn’t ask to inherit this world with its too-big problems, but it’s the world we have. There’s going to be wraith as long as there’s magic, and magic is in us. It’s part of us, whether we want to deny it or embrace it. Maybe our parents and their parents did the best they could, but it’s up to us to do better. We’ll change the world.”

Tobiah leaned forward and rested his face in his hands. “I’m so tired of losing people.”

“I know. I am, too.”

He didn’t move or indicate he needed me to stay, so I smoothed a strand of his hair and left.

I filled the rest of the afternoon with council meetings to ensure refugees were cared for, city repairs were under way, and everything was moving as smoothly as it ever had.

When I returned to my room and peeked through the adjoining door, Tobiah was nowhere in sight.

That had to be a good sign.

Dusk fell. A fire already burned in the fireplace, throwing warmth into my parlor. I turned on a gas lamp and found my notebook, the black one Patrick had given me years ago.

There was only one blank page remaining.

I lingered over the ritual of preparing to write, choosing a pen and ink, considering the handwriting I wanted to use, and finally dipped the pen and touched the tines to paper.

When I was only nine years old, I began this diary to chronicle my return to my kingdom. I’ve carried it through kingdoms and battles and wraithland.

I’m home at last, but everything is different from how I imagined.

Friends are lost: some to death, and some to differences we were never able to overcome. Some because they sacrificed everything for what they believed.

I don’t know if I’m ready to be queen. I don’t feel ready. But maybe queens never do.

All I know is this: I’ll give it my best.

Tobiah stood at my elbow, watching with those dark eyes. He’d washed up while I’d been out, and now he wore a clean black suit. He tapped the corner of my notebook. “You use this handwriting a lot. Whose is it?”

The hand was a mix of my favorites, the best parts of each. “It’s mine.”

“I like it.” His smile was faint, but it still existed. There was hope after all. “And these”—he touched the small stack of papers near my work—“are our letters from Skyvale? You kept them?”

I blew on my writing to dry the ink, and then closed my diary. “There aren’t many things I’ve ever really thought of as mine. This notebook. The signet ring my father gave me. My weapons. These letters are important to me.”

“Right up there with your favorite daggers?”

I shrugged. “Almost up there.”

He shifted his weight and touched the pale blue notebook I’d enchanted. “After you left the Indigo Kingdom, I looked for your letters every day, even when I didn’t have time to respond. Or want to. But as the days passed, and suddenly I was thrust out of my city, your letters became what kept me whole. I reread them all the time. They made me feel close to you. I celebrated your triumphs, cursed your struggles, and spent whole nights wondering about this handwriting you kept using. I relied on those letters. I needed them.”

My heart turned as I touched the leather cover, ran my fingers over the braided designs on the edge. “I looked for your response every day. I didn’t stop hoping. Not until—not until the news came.”

He nodded, head low. Hair breezed over his eyebrows. “I know. When I saw your final letter, I thought it would kill me. I wanted to reassure you, but it was impossible if I wanted to ensure your queenship.”

We’d both sacrificed so much.

And so much had been ripped away.

It was a wonder there was anything left at all.

“What are you going to do with your diary now that it’s finished?” He kept his gaze on me, steady and warm and seeing everything. “Will you start a new one?”

“Once I find a notebook I like as much. In the meantime, I’ll put this one away.” I walked to the bookcase filled with the diaries of queens before me. “I’ll leave it so those who come after will know what I did to reclaim Aecor—the good and the bad. Maybe my descendants will make better choices where I failed.”

“Your descendants?” He took my chair and pen, not bothering to ask permission as he found a sheet of paper and began writing. “Are you planning on having a lot of descendants?”

“One day I’d like a whole army of tiny vigilantes.”

“A worthy goal.”

We stayed in the quiet for a few more minutes, him writing, and me reluctant to interrupt him. It was good that he was here. Reaching out. Not alone.

Finally, he blew on the ink and handed the paper to me.

It was a list, and almost looked as though it were written in my handwriting. A fair approximation anyway.

Reasons we should get married:

Because I love you.

We both look good in black boots.

I spent some time without you, and I didn’t like it.

You make me happy.

I make you laugh.

I like the way you fight.

You see through my masks.

I really love you.

You love me, too. (Though you’ve mostly said this while yelling, so perhaps I should have double-checked.)

Army of tiny vigilantes. (I have name ideas.)

Various political reasons that make sense but don’t fit with the theme of this list.

I’m holding your handwriting hostage. You can have it back when you say yes.

When I looked up, his expression was earnest. Hopeful. “It doesn’t have to be right now. We can wait. I just want to know you’ll be ready one day.”

My heart knotted as I reread the list. For all I wanted him, there were still barriers. One, especially. “What about Meredith?” I let his list hang limp in my fingers as I strode toward the fireplace. “Chrysalis was my responsibility, and I didn’t stop him when I should have.”

On the mantel behind me, the clock ticked away seconds.

“During the ball,” he said, “you avoided this conversation.” He pursued me across the room, taking my waist in his hands. His body was only a breath away from mine. “But it must happen. Surely you know that.”

I dropped my eyes to the hollow of his throat. “I’m listening.”

“Finally.” His hands relaxed, but he didn’t move away. That was good. “After I announced the wedding date, I would lie awake every night and think about that time in the breezeway, and the mistake I’d made.”

The mistake of kissing me.

“I would think about how for ten years, our lives kept
touching, tapping, but we never seemed to stay on the same course. The One-Night War. The streets of Skyvale. Your time in the palace. And when we kissed in the breezeway, I knew, I
knew
I wanted to be with you, and that I’d never be satisfied any other way. But I still chose her because I’d promised my father—who wasn’t even alive to care. That was my mistake.”

“Oh.” The word came as a breath.

“Wilhelmina Korte, from the moment we met, you challenged me in ways I needed to be challenged. In ways I
want
to be challenged. I’ve known it all along.

“When I chose her, I chose wrong. Oh, I’d have done my best to make her happy. I cared about her. But I’m just as responsible for her death, and I’ve spent the last months learning to accept that.” Tension ran from his shoulders and he stepped back, firelight glowing across the planes and angles of his face. “And I don’t want to ignore how much I feel for you, either. There’s an undeniable gravity between us. I know you feel it, too.”

“Yes.”

And it seemed as though everyone else sensed it, too. James. Melanie. Chrysalis. Meredith. Even Prince Colin.

“We keep drifting toward each other.” Tobiah’s eyes were steady on mine, so familiar in the faint light. “No matter the masks we wear, we always end up together.”

“I’m tired of wearing masks.”

“So am I.” He cupped his hands over my cheeks. “Wilhelmina. I know we have a lot to work out, but I can’t deny that I want you.”

My heart beating so hard made my chest ache. His list slipped from my fingers, floating, skimming across the floor a
little ways before it settled.

Tobiah’s fingertips brushed against my face, cool and gentle. “I want every part of you. The nameless girl. The Osprey. The vigilante. The queen. Wilhelmina, you have a hundred identities and I love every one of them.”

I couldn’t stop my smile. Maybe I didn’t have to understand
how
he could love me after all the things I’d done, just accept that he
did
—and that maybe, probably, he felt the same way about my love for him.

He bent so his forehead rested against mine. “A few times now you’ve told me not to kiss you anymore. Do I have your permission this time?”

“You have enthusiastic permission.” I cupped his face in my hands, keeping him in place as I tilted my head to kiss him. Softly, at first. A brush of my lips against his.

“Again?” His eyes were closed, but he was smiling.

“Yes.” When we kissed, the muscles of his jaw flexed under my fingers, and the shape of his body fit with mine. His arms fell around me, drawing us close. His hands pressed against my waist and hips and the small of my back. His mouth moved against mine, deepening the kiss until we were drowning.

He’d been right about gravity. We’d spent our lives falling toward each other, and now he was in my arms. I was in his.

“Wil,” he breathed. “Wilhelmina.”

With my hands on his face, fingertips tracing the lines and curves of his jaw and cheeks, I could
feel
the way he said my name.

My
name.

We were no longer vigilante and thief, or sullen prince and
hidden princess, or only half aware of the other’s identity. This was love without masks.

I pushed my fingers through his hair and kissed his mouth and chin and neck and the hollow of his throat. He dropped back his head in surrender as heat from the fireplace washed over us in waves.

The world fell away. I breezed my hands down his back, mapping the ridges of muscle beneath his clothes. He kissed a trail down my jaw and neck and shoulder. We breathed in time with each other, like we were one.

A door clicked and footsteps sounded, but I didn’t pay attention until Melanie said, “I guess this means Paige should prepare the castle for a wedding.”

Tobiah kissed me again and drew back, just enough so I could see the smile that warmed his face. “One day.”

“One day,” I agreed.

Melanie stood in the doorway, a packet of papers in one hand, and holding the fallen list in the other. “For propriety’s sake, I’d bolt the doors between your rooms and take the keys, but you’re both disreputable enough to pick the locks.”

“Definitely.” Tobiah grinned at me.

“Did you come here to tease us, Mel?” My heart still pounded with Tobiah’s nearness. “Or was there something else?”

“I brought good news.” She offered the packet to me.