Witch Queen (7 page)

The thought of joining a rebellion had
sparked a fire in me and satisfied my own natural defiance against
rules and regulations. But above all, I wanted to get back at the
priests. I was ravenous to learn all I could about Jon’s rebellion,
about what he truly stood for, and about his plans to take down the
empire. But there hadn’t been any time for questions, and what I’d
learned from Will and Leo in the last few days wasn’t much. Most of
it I had already heard from Jon.

I had learned that the great rebellion to
overthrow the priests had started in Anglia two hundred years ago,
and that the leaders from all but two of the other realms of
Arcania had been planning in secret for years. Romila and Girmania
had not participated. Had the Romilians and Girmanians been in
league with the necromancer priests all this time?

I was all too aware that we needed to cross
both their realms to reach Witchdom. I’d tucked one of Rose’s maps
inside my saddlebag, and I knew that if we continued our steady
pace, we would reach the border of Romila in about ten days.

I cringed at the icy fear I felt, and I
pushed it back. I wouldn’t let it take over. I stole a glance at
the faces of the men. Even in their silence, I could almost hear
their fear. It was in the shadows of their eyes, the gauntness of
their faces, and in the tension along their shoulders.

Young Garrick was the worst. His jaw was
clamped tightly, and he appeared to be in pain. His eyes darted
around nervously, never settling on anything for longer than a
fraction of a second. I felt sorry for him, and I wondered why he
had volunteered. He cast a glance my way and I quickly turned away,
afraid that he would sense my
own
fear. That couldn’t
happen.
I
was leading them. I couldn’t risk them seeing the
terror in my eyes. Leaders weren’t supposed to be frightened. They
were supposed to lead. And that’s what I was going to do.

As we rode, I stared at the vast landscape
that spread on either side of the main road. The warm red and
yellow hues of fall were missing. The trees stood gray and
leafless, like skeletons. The few leaves that still hung on the
branches were blackened and spotted with dark stains. The lands
surrounding Soul City had been hit the hardest by the black blight.
Death and disease affected everything.

I cringed as we passed withered and
blackened farmers’ fields that looked as though they’d been burned,
and I clamped my mouth shut as swarms of flies and locusts hit my
face. I nearly gagged as one hit me in the eye and clung to my
eyelashes. Resisting the urge to open my mouth, I pulled the insect
out of my eye and tossed it into the wind.

There were no horses, cattle, sheep, or
goats—no animals at all as far as I could tell. Come to think of
it, I hadn’t spotted any birds or heard any bickering squirrels
either. It wasn’t natural. None of it was. The acrid smell burned
my lungs. It smelled of bile, rotting flesh and death. The
infection of the black blight had spread for miles beyond Soul
City.

Torak snorted loudly and shook his head. I
felt his legs quicken beneath me, as if he, too, needed to pull us
faster down the road and away from the rotting lands. Horses were
much cleverer than people let on or knew. When the Eternal Bogs had
risen against us, Torak and the other horses had fled to the
shelter of Gray Havens. I knew without a doubt that Torak’s
instincts recognized the unnatural evil of the necromancer priests’
black magic. He couldn’t stand the smell or the sight of the
blight. And I didn’t blame him. Torak’s aversion only deepened my
own sense of dread and urgency.

We rode on steadily for four days. At first
we met a few travelers, mostly farmers and merchants pulling carts
stuffed with provisions. Their faces were gaunt, but their clear
eyes showed that they had not yet been infected with the black
sickness. But as the days went by, we met fewer and fewer
travelers, until the main road was deserted except for us.

At night we rested and made camp. Max built
a fire and made tea while the rest of us ate our scarce provisions
of dried meat, stale bread, and cheese. We took our meals in
silence, and I slept away from the others.

On the fifth day, we came to a crossroad
that went down into a green valley with winding rivers and other
intersecting paths. I could see a surprisingly vast city was
nestled on the floor of the valley. Grand limestone structures
similar to those in Soul City reflected red and gold in the setting
sun, and the city looked both frightening and beautiful.

This was Erast. It was the home of Prince
Landon
Battenberg, the late
real royal prince of Anglia. I felt anger, guilt, and sadness as I
remembered Prince Landon.
I had let a pretty face creep into
my heart. My mind had been clouded because this wealthy and
beautiful man paid flirtatious attentions to me, a poor and
wretched woman from the Pit. I had listened to the lies from his
hot, sensuous lips, and I had fallen for his regal charms. I
couldn’t blame his damn family wine anymore.
I
had fallen
for him, and it had cost me.

I couldn’t believe I had let him kiss me and
touch me, only to have him leave me for dead. I had been so stupid
and weak.

A tall, square structure rose in the center
of the city, an enormous pillar of white stone that dwarfed the
buildings around it. Even from the distance of the crossroad, I
could see a red and gold flag on the topmost turret, the royal seal
of Anglia. It was clear that Erast had supported the late prince’s
claim to the throne of Anglia, and I wondered what these people had
had to sacrifice for the high priests to allow them to make such a
bold statement and fly the Anglian flag.

Although it was substantial, the white-stone
structure wasn’t a castle. The priests would never have allowed
them to build a real keep. I suspected that flying the flag was as
close as they could get to suggesting that the real monarchy
belonged in Erast.

The city seemed quiet from up here. The
grasses were green, and the trees rippled with a myriad of red,
orange, and golden leaves. No black stains. No blackened anything.
Perhaps the black blight hadn’t reached Erast yet. Perhaps they’d
been lucky.

Or perhaps we just couldn’t
see
it.

The longer I stared at the city, the more I
felt that something was definitely off. I just couldn’t figure it
out. There was nothing out of place. The city gleamed under the sun
like a giant jewel, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I felt the same
foreboding I had felt when I had spotted the giant wave of gray
mist rolling onto the beaches of Anglia’s western sea. At first I
couldn’t see the evil that lurked in the mist, but I
knew
it
was there. I
felt
it.

Call it my witch’s intuition, but I knew
something evil was down there, just as I knew that if we went down
there we wouldn’t come back.

And then as if answering my suspicions, the
wound at the back of my neck throbbed and burned like holy hell. It
was warning me, just like it had warned me of the high priests’
black magic inside the golden temple. The necromancers’ black magic
was definitely in Erast.

Leo appeared on my right side. I knew he
wanted to talk. I gave a firm tug on the reins and slowed Torak to
a walk. I knew all too well what he was about to ask.

Leo stared at the city down in the valley.
“Do you think we should warn them? It doesn’t seem like the city’s
been infected yet.”

My throat felt dry as the others slowed and
gathered around us, close enough to hear our conversation. I wasn’t
sure I’d ever get used to this leadership thing. I did my best not
to cringe in my saddle because what I was about to say was
difficult.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” The words
were out of my mouth before I could control them.

“Why not? We could save thousands of
lives.”

I wanted to say
, Because of the witch
blood in my veins, I can sense the evil down there
, but instead
I voiced, “If we go down there and tell them that their beloved
prince is dead at the hands of evil necromancers skilled in black
magic, they’ll hang us all. They’ll blame us for his death.”

I looked at Leo and hoped he could see it
would be madness to go down there.

“They won’t believe us. They won’t believe a
group of wretched folk from the Pit. That’s what we are to them:
thieves, whores, murderers—to them we’re Anglia’s trash. Besides
what proof do we have? They won’t believe us.”

“Maybe not at first,” said Leo, the tension
growing in his voice. “But they might listen after we reasoned with
them. It’s worth looking like fools if we can save lives.”

The anguish in his eyes made my stomach
tighten. “Look. I get it. But truthfully, we can’t risk getting
caught. Don’t underestimate the necromancers. They wouldn’t leave
one of their precious cities
unguarded
. We can’t risk going
in and getting caught. We have to keep moving before it gets
dark.”

“There are families and children,” said
Will.

I was surprised at the emotion in his voice,
even though his hard, square face remained hidden beneath his thick
cowl.

“I don’t give a shit about the noble
bastards,” he continued. “But it doesn’t seem right to leave the
little ones and the women like this.”

They were the longest three sentences he’d
ever spoken to me. I knew this was important to him. And like Leo,
Will wouldn’t look directly into my eyes. They weren’t getting it.
They all looked at me like I was some heartless bitch.

Would they never trust me? Would I always be
a witch and an outsider because I was not like them?

I had to tread carefully. They might have
volunteered to come with me, but I wouldn’t put it past them to
pack up and leave at any moment.

I was more than capable of imagining
black-veined children with soulless, ebony eyes and peeling rotten
flesh. My voice, when it came out, was hoarse and shaky.

“You don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t
want to help. I do, I
really
do. But the best way to help
them is if we keep going. The sooner we get to Witchdom the sooner
we’ll get the help they need.”

The words felt like a lie on my lips, and I
hoped the men didn’t recognize my lack of conviction. The truth was
that I doubted our chances of getting any help at all. And it
frightened me.

“I’ll go,” said Garrick.

My gaze shifted to the young man. His soft,
tousled brown locks fell around his face and over his cheeks,
making him appear even younger than he was. There was innocent hope
in his eyes that I knew I’d have to crush.

“You can’t.”

“I’m a fast rider,” he pressed.

He ignored the frown that deepened on my
face and sat straighter in his saddle. His eyes darted back and
forth between the other men, and I recognized that he was
attempting to prove himself to them.

“I know I don’t look it,” he went on as his
eyes turned back to me and didn’t stray, “but I am. Besides, if any
of the black or white robed bastards are down there, they won’t be
looking for me.”

“He’s right,” said Leo as a ripple of
understanding flashed across his face. “If the high priests are
looking for you, Elena, they’re looking for a
woman
. Not a
young lad. It might work.”

They still kept referring to the
necromancers as
high priests
, as though they imagined they
had a chance against them. I fought to keep my frustrations at bay
because I needed their help to get to Witchdom. It was a suicide
mission to go down there. I needed them all if we were to make
it.

“It’s already too late,” I said, straining
to keep my voice calm. “There’s nothing we can do for them
now.”

“It’s not too late!” insisted Garrick. “I’ll
ride hard, and I’ll meet you back on the eastern road before the
sun sets. I can do this—”

“You can’t!” I shouted. Torak shifted
beneath me and I forced myself to calm down. “It’s too late,” I
said, more controlled. “The city’s infected. It’s already reached
them.”

Silence.

They all stared at me with looks of disdain
that they took few pains to hide. There was something else, though,
something I couldn’t quite understand.

“But how would you know?” Leo asked.

“Because,” I began and braced myself for
what was coming, “because I can
feel
it.”

The men looked at each other furtively. I
didn’t have to be a mind reader to know exactly what they were
thinking.

Magic bearer. Witch. Evil.

I wished Jon were here, and my heart gave a
painful jolt at the thought of him. They’d listen to him. They
wouldn’t question him or second guess his motives. In spite of
their silence, I could feel the weight of doubt and fear in the
air. One by one the men steered their horses away and galloped down
the east road without a single word or a second glance in my
direction.

I sat still on Torak and watched them leave
me behind. Although they did not go down to Erast, and I had kept
the group of us together, I almost shouted to them to go back to
the Pit. But I didn’t.
Pricks.

My hands shook as I found the comfort of
Torak’s reins. Before I felt them, hot tears had spilled down my
face, and I didn’t bother wiping them away. I would not let them or
anyone make me ashamed that I was a steel maiden, strong and
magic.

I pressed my heels against Torak’s sides,
and we tore down the road.

We rode in silence for the next few days,
and no one spoke more than a few words to me when we made camp and
ate. It was clear our little group of rebels doubted my leadership,
and I had to bite my tongue countless times when I wanted to shout
to them to go back to the damn Pit. It was only the thought of Jon
that kept me sane. He needed me. Although I wanted to lash out at
them, I couldn’t. They already feared and mistrusted me, and I
didn’t want to make the situation worse.