Witch Queen (27 page)

I
HAD BEEN TOO wired to get more than
a couple of hours of sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking of Prince
Aurion’s warning.
Why the hell did he care what happened to
me?
It didn’t make sense.

So, the witch queen wasn’t his mother.
Had his mother been killed? Was the new queen
responsible?

I wasn’t here to get involved in the royal
family’s drama. I had enough on my mind as it was. And yet,
something deep inside me told me that the prince had been truthful.
The witch queen’s violet eyes had shot daggers at me, and she had
demanded my death. So it came as no surprise when Prince Aurion
warned me about her. I’d have to watch my back.

My body ached, and my head pounded from lack
of sleep. I felt like I’d been beaten by wooden swords. I was in no
shape for any kind of trial. Even my healing magic could not heal
my weariness.

Celeste forced me to eat a little bread and
water, but I threw it back up moments later. My nerves wouldn’t let
me hold anything down. I’d nearly burst into tears of joy, however,
when she told me that she’d been able to slip the leftover food and
water from last night to the men in the oubliette.

Because my other clothes were still with the
laundress, and apparently not suitable for the trials, Celeste
helped me dress in what she called
traditional
steel maiden
garb. It consisted of a soft, red leather band that crisscrossed
over my breasts and left my midsection exposed; a pair of golden
leggings from a material that had the slick softness of silk but
the strength of leather; a pair of soft leather boots that reached
my mid thighs; red leather arm bracers emblazoned with golden
swords; and finally a pair of thigh bracers that I strapped over my
boots.

She said she had found it all in the trunk
that she had dragged into my room.

I rubbed my hands over the material. “What
is this?”

“Witchdom silk,” said Celeste as she pulled
my hair into a long braid and wove gold and red ribbons into it. “…
from our pillion butterflies. It’s the most durable material we
have in Witchdom. It’s as soft as velvet but as resilient as
leather.”

I had seen this kind of material on some of
the higher classed witches and the royal family.

Celeste stepped back and smiled. Her eyes
sparkled.

“The true clan colors and garb of a steel
maiden. Not those dreadful village linens you came here with. If
you want to command respect as a steel maiden—then you better dress
like one.”

I looked at Celeste. “This is you, isn’t
it?”

She just blinked at me innocently, but a
hint of rebelliousness flashed in her hazel eyes.

“The witch king never asked for me to be
fitted with these, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” she answered.

I wasn't sure what she was up to.

“Over the years I had heard stories that the
previous steel maiden’s garments had been preserved somewhere
within the fortress, so I went to find them. It turned out that the
rumors were true. The outfit was in mint condition, so I thought it
wouldn’t hurt if I aired them it out.”

She stood and appraised me for a moment with
her hands on her hips.

“I think I’ve forgotten something.” Her eyes
widened. “Of course!”

She rummaged in the chest and pulled out a
selection of leather straps and belts. She wrapped a baldric around
my right shoulder and fitted me with five daggers: two for my
weapons belt, two that I sheathed into my thigh bracers, and a
bosom dagger that fitted perfectly in my leather brassiere. Finally
she handed me a gleaming silver short sword.

Her eyes flashed. “This is a
witch
blade
. The true sword for a steel maiden.”

I gripped the handle eagerly. The sword was
light and well balanced. It felt strangely familiar to me, as
though I had seen one just like it before, like I was
meant
to yield it. But that was impossible. The hilt of the sword formed
a dragon’s head and wings, and the pommel formed the dragon’s tail.
The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with red gemstones. The blade
was etched with words written in Witchtongue and with images that
depicted a steel maiden fighting a warrior.

“I’m surprised they let you bring me
weapons,” I said and sheathed my new sword at my waist.

“They must not see you as a threat, now that
the terms are agreed.” Celeste closed the trunk with her foot. “And
they know you won’t leave without the humans. Besides, you’re going
to need the weapons anyway, aren’t you?”

I still felt naked. I was showing more of my
flesh than I would ever normally do, and I was self-conscious that
I was still
painfully
skinny. Celeste comforted me a little
by letting me know that steel maidens wore the leather bodice over
a shirt in colder weather.

The weapons were not my own, but the
familiar weight of them in my hand, the brush of steel, and the
smell of iron brought a smile to my face. I was dressed for combat.
I beamed despite my situation. I was going to kick some witch ass
today. Finally, it was time to show off what I could do.

I still didn’t understand why the witch maid
was being so attentive.

“Celeste, why are you helping me?”

For a moment I thought she was going to
reveal her true feelings, but she just smiled kindly.

“For one thing because you call me by my
real name. But mostly because I know what it’s like to feel like an
outsider in this big old fortress. You’re going to need all the
help you can get if you want to win your army. But also because we
lesser witches need to stick together.”

I shook my head and corrected her.

“We’re not lesser witches. We’re different.
It’s our uniqueness that makes us who we are, which makes us
stronger and smarter than all the rest of those foolish witches
combined.”

She gave me a little smile, and I embraced
her in a bear hug.

“Thank you,” I whispered into her hair. “It
means a lot to have a…”

Friend,
I wanted to say, but I didn’t
know what she was to me, or what I was to her, not yet.

“To have someone looking out for me.”

Celeste wiggled out of my hug and I followed
her out the door.

The coven guards were waiting for me and
escorted me to a grassy circle in an outdoor arena just outside the
northern walls of the fortress.

The fog lifted with the rising of the
morning sun, and I looked around. The only other arena I’ve ever
seen was back in Soul City where the temple guards had shown their
strength by butchering slaves. It was much smaller than this
one.

I was in an immense bowl, and an audience of
witches sat in tiers of stone benches and boxes separated by
walkways. A royal box was right at the front. It was dripping with
black silk marked with the red hand of the Dark Witches clan and
was furnished with three plush chairs. All the royal witches had
come to see me perform my first round of trials. I wasn’t surprised
to see the witch king, but I wasn’t expecting his wife to be up
this early, or Prince Aurion.

The witch king wore a fine coat of Witchdom
silk in his clan colors. He appeared surprised when he saw that I
wore the colors of the Steel Maiden clan—my clan. I smiled at him,
and he looked pleased, too pleased, and leaned back into his
throne. The coven general stood behind his king and watched me with
suspicious yellow eyes.

The witch queen was an altogether different
matter. She looked at me with contempt, and her violet eyes
darkened even more when she inspected my newest attire and weapons.
She wore a blood-red gown that was no doubt meant to intimidate me.
It wrapped tightly around her upper body, and silk fell in layers
around her hips and legs. Her red hair was braided into the
delicate crown on her head, and her eyes burned with hatred for
me.

Although I was small and insignificant in
the gargantuan arena, the steel maiden’s clothes and weapons made
me feel powerful. I felt like a true warrior and not just some girl
from the Pit.

Thank you, Celeste, for being such a clever
girl.

She had known that these clothes would throw
them off balance a little. The way I looked would help me play the
part and give me confidence.

The witch prince, Aurion, wasn’t looking at
me. Unlike the others, he stared darkly at the floor, his attention
elsewhere. He was dressed in a fitted sky-blue coat with a matching
silk scarf pinned on his shoulder. His pale skin and gray hair
sparkled. Even when he was bored, he was dashingly handsome.

Crowds of witches made their way into the
arena. They talked, embraced, and laughed like a party was about to
begin. Some pointed at me and laughed. I don’t think they had much
hope that I would survive whatever the witch king was about to
throw at me.

I looked away. I would not let these witches
break my spirit. I lifted my head in defiance and put on my best
display of bravado.

I can do this.

As I waited for my fate to unfold, I
couldn’t help but notice the crowd of very beautiful female witches
in the box next to Prince Aurion. A golden-haired witch in a black
and red gown focused in silence on his face. Her breasts
practically spilled out of her bodice as she attempted to get his
attention. The other desperate witches flaunted themselves and
batted their eyes at him, too. But the prince never looked up, not
even once.

But despite the prince’s indifference, the
witches continued to flirt with him. The golden-haired witch swung
her legs off the box and exposed her barely-there undergarments in
such a pathetic attempt to get his attention that for a moment I
forgot about the trials and smiled.

I was glad that I was not weak or stupid,
and that I hadn’t lost my pride. I’d rather have been poor and
skinny, and to have smelled of sweat from a hard day’s work, than
to have flaunted my sex at the royal prince like an expensive
whore. It was painfully obvious that they wanted the attention of
the prince for one reason alone—because they wanted to be the next
witch queen. I didn’t.

Perhaps Prince Aurion knew it, too. Perhaps
he just didn’t care.

I searched the crowd for Fawkes. I
recognized the bent and gnarled bodies of the Coven Council as they
moved slowly to their seats, but no sign of Fawkes. My heart sank
when I realized he wasn’t there.

Why would he miss this? How could he miss
this when it seemed that the entire realm of Witchdom had come to
see me make a fool of myself?

I needed Fawkes. He was like my anchor, and
I felt lost without him.

I tried to calm my nerves as more and more
witches arrived in the arena. I knew they had come to see me fail.
Despite the cool air, the sweat trickled down my back and between
my breasts. My hands were moist, and I resisted the urge to wipe
them on my leggings.

I had a dreadful feeling of foreboding.
What had I gotten myself into?

If Rose had been here, she’d have told me I
was a foolish and headstrong young woman for getting myself into
this mess.

But what choice did I have?

I had to take the witch king’s deal—there
was no other way.

All eyes were on me.
How long would I
have to stand here like a fool?

I didn’t have to wait long.

I heard the screeching of iron, and a large
door across the arena swung open. The crowd cheered and shouted,
but I could see nothing and could only imagine what monsters would
emerge. I don’t know why, but I looked at the prince, and this time
our eyes met.

His gray eyes were too wide, and even in the
distance I could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped the
edges of his chair.

Three male and two female witches strolled
into the arena through the iron gate. They were clad in the white,
silver, green, purple, and black colors of each of the five clans.
I couldn’t see any weapons on them as they approached me, only
pendants hanging from their necks. I quickly realized that they
were not strolling but
gliding
towards me. They were
hovering a few inches off the ground like specters and demons from
another realm.

And there was nowhere for me to run.

CHAPTER 23

I
TRIED DESPERATELY NOT to show any
fear, but the witches sneered at me, and I knew they’d seen it on
my face. Everyone in the goddamn arena could see I was
terrified.

The witches floated into position until they
had surrounded me. Only then did they settle on the ground.

After my initial shock of seeing people
actually
fly
had worn off, I unsheathed my new sword and
tried to calm my breathing. I sank low in a defensive stance and
waited, wishing I had eyes in the back of my head. I could have
taken on a few thugs at once, but never witches, and never this
many. I would have to rely on my instinct.