The True Queen Page 7

  The sound of it sends me running. I hold out my hands and send blasts of magic outward, not sure whether it’s ice or fire but hoping it finds Sig and the ice wielder. I will consider why he might have betrayed us to the impostor queen later, but now I only want him dead for endangering Thyra. The magic thunders as I reach the earthen barrier and dig my toes in, grasping for rocks and clumps of grass as I climb. Panic pushes me upward. Why did Thyra leave the protection of this wall? What in heaven is she doing? Was she trying to flee?

  My fingers close over a thick covering of grass and I pull myself over the edge and onto the tilted ground on the other side of the wall, then roll down a steep slope formed by the chaos of earth.

  The magic has gone quiet. Only the moon lights the clearing. But when I see what it reveals, I am running and running and running, praying with each step that my eyes are telling me a terrible lie.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Elli

  Sitting in Lahja’s chambers because my own have been destroyed, I let Helka put the gold paint on my face, but not the white. If I wear the white paint, I won’t be able to speak, because it would crack. The people are not used to hearing the voice of their queen, because she was always silent behind her mask. Yet another trick of the elders to silence and cage the Valtia. But those days are over, and today I wear only the gold around my eyes and the red on my lips. Helka seems to be of two minds about this. She insists on powdering my face to make it look paler, but then she smiles and says, “You look like she did. Beautiful.”

  Sofia, she means. I wonder what my Valtia would have thought about what I am doing. I think she would have approved.

  Helka’s fingers close over my shoulders as the earth begins to shake again. From the bedroom, I hear Lahja cry, and I am forced to blink away tears because I cannot go to her now. I cover Helka’s hands with my own as I close my eyes and beg the stars for the quake to stop. Fortunately, like the others earlier today, this one is not so terrible. It’s more of a reminder that our land is unhappy, sick, falling apart. It can’t hold us up forever now that we’ve bled it near to death. Raimo has spent the afternoon and evening seeking answers from his texts, and tonight after my public appearance we will talk about what he has found.

  When the shaking stops and I am ready, wearing the heavy dress and the copper-agate crown, I call for Lahja. I need to see that she is all right—she is staying in this place tonight with a cadre of guards instead of going with me to the square. After I let her kiss my hand, I stride down the hall and sit on my ceremonial paarit in the dusty chamber where the clammy, unsteady apprentices have used the afternoon to clear away debris. Raimo stands next to the bearers. He is my magic, though no one else knows it. He is clad in an elder’s robe, the hood pulled over his face, so I can’t see his expression. I frown when I see his hands tremble, though. He is still not well.

  I am worried for more than his welfare—his unsteadiness reminds me of the plight of all the wielders. Oskar and Sig left hours ago to gather them and head to the Loputon. Sig insisted that the true Valtia was there, and that she needed help. She has no balance, and Raimo said this would make her more vulnerable and dangerous than even Sig and Oskar. Sig said she might be an ally if approached the right way, but that she is in the company of Soturi, to whom her loyalty is absolute—apparently they call themselves the Krigere, a brutal, ugly word in my opinion. He said they hope to make Kupari their new home.

  I am not sure how I feel about that, having these barbarians on our land. Sig said they are not all bad, and that in fact some of them are quite good, but I’m not sure I trust him. After all, these are the people who stole our queen when she was still a little girl.

  When Sig told us her name, both Oskar and I knew exactly who she was, and that is why Oskar insisted upon going with Sig to find her. Oskar could barely believe it—his cousin, Ansa, thought to be dead all these years. Now we know she was taken in the raid that killed her parents, and stars only know what they did to her after that. Somehow, though, they secured her allegiance. He said she is noble and brave—and in love with the Krigere chieftain, whom I also remember. Chieftain Thyra, the young woman who stood on the steps of the platform the night Sig burned Mim to ash. I remember being drawn to her, somber eyes set into such a fine-boned, serious face. She seemed more human and civilized than the rest. But she is still Soturi, and still a warrior, and still the enemy until I am convinced otherwise.

  Sig said there is another threat too, because the tribe is split, and the rogue element has joined forces with Kauko. None of this is good news, but if we have the Valtia on our side, we can destroy any enemy who attacks.

  My mind is a maelstrom of calculation as I am lifted from the ground. One challenge at a time. When Sig and Oskar return with my Valtia, I know she will feel the bond with me and with Lahja. She will remember who she is, and she will know she must protect the Kupari over all others. Tonight, though, it’s still up to me, and the enemy is our own fear.

  I sit up straight and still when I am carried into the torch-lit plaza. My stomach tightens as I see the flames dancing over spills of shattered rock, as I feel the paarit wobble while my bearers try to carry me smoothly over crumbling stone stairs. As we walk between the broken gates to the city, people line the road. They are pinched and frightened, and their eyes fix on me with such fierce hope that it holds me up and lifts my chin. The weight of the crown on my head reminds me that it is my responsibility to lead them through this terrible time. And I will.

  I raise my arms, and Raimo knows his cue. He brightens the torches in the square—they flare as I am carried into the center of the space. Normally I’d be on the platform, but it has been destroyed by the quakes. Still, I am held up by my bearers, so all can see me.

  “People of Kupari,” I say loudly as a hushed silence falls across the vast square. The townsfolk are shoulder to shoulder, crowded in, leaning forward. “Once again our strength is being tested. And once again we are going to prove to the stars and the land that we can endure the trial.”

  I stand. Raimo makes the torches flare again, but then they gutter and nearly go out. I glance to the side and see him leaning heavily on his stick. Fear is ice in my belly, and I feel it ripple through the souls in the square, drawing a few whimpers and cries.

  “This morning a wielder killed a babe,” shouts a gray-bearded man who stands near my paarit. “She claims she couldn’t control it and blamed the quake. Are you also affected?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “My magic is as it always has been.”

  “Prove it,” shouts a woman on my other side.

  “No.” This time my voice is hard. “I will use the magic as I always do—to protect all of you. I will not use it to prove myself to a people who should know better.”

  Inside, I tremble. But I know how to be confident when I am cowering inside. I look over my people with love.

  I find terror looking back at me.

  “The wielders of the temple will continue to help with rescue and rebuilding,” I tell all of them.

  “What if we don’t want their help?” cries a young man who has a scythe propped on his shoulder. It’s not harvest season—I can only think he has brought it as a weapon.

  Grumbles of agreement roll like a wave through the square. “Wielders are dangerous! They belong in the temple!”

  “Wielders are citizens,” I say, my voice ringing over the complaints. “They have the same freedom anyone else has.”

  “Not if they kill our children,” comes a hoarse shout. It comes from Yrian, who is standing on a pile of rocks near the start of the Lantinen road. “My son is dead because of this woman!” He points a thick finger at a doorway to his right, and a limp form is dragged through it while others press out of the way.

  “I asked for the wielder to be brought to the temple.” I don’t say it loudly, but my eyes find Topias, who does not meet my gaze. I look at Agata next, and she stares boldly at me until the torch nearest her grows huge and bright. She flinche
s, and Raimo lets out a grunt of satisfaction.

  “Her crime is too great to go without punishment,” Yrian roars, and the men who have Ivette shake her, then toss her to the ground in the space that has cleared in front of my paarit.

  While the people around her back away or jeer, Ivette lifts her head to look at me. “My Valtia,” she says. Her face is bruised and her lip is split. “I am so sorry.”

  “Punish her,” comes a shout from the crowd. Others clap and cheer. “She killed a baby!”

  “I didn’t mean to,” she shrieks. “I would have protected him with my life!”

  “Liar,” shouts Yrian. “You used your magic to end that life!”

  “Wielders can’t be trusted,” a woman shouts. “None of them!”

  The crowd encircles Ivette, and she covers her head as the first stone hits her.

  “Enough,” I say, raising my arms. A gust of murderously icy wind blows over the square, and my people collectively cringe away from me—and the terrified ice wielder at my feet. Raimo’s knuckles are white as they clutch his stick, and I know it is taking all his power and control to wield the magic he usually uses so effortlessly.

  If we don’t get out of this square soon, several very bad things could happen.

  “Guards,” I say, sharp and sure. “Take the ice wielder to the temple.” I glare at Agata when she opens her mouth to protest. “If we are divided as a people we will fall,” I shout to the crowd. “You may meet as citizens and discuss whether you would like the benefit of magic as you try to protect yourselves from the Soturi. But rest assured—if you turn on your own neighbors, if you deny them justice, then you will be weakened.”

  “We demand justice,” calls Yrian. “You deny it to us, Valtia!”

  “No—the temple will pay for the life of your son in bars of copper, and you have my grief alongside your own, because I know there are not enough riches in our stores or all the world to dry your tears.”

  Yrian gives me a searching look. I know he wants to believe—like everyone in Kupari, he has been taught to have faith in the goodness and power of his queen, and I am relying on that now. Others are clearly awaiting his response, because there is silence in the square again except for Ivette’s terrified sobs.

  After a long, tense moment, Yrian nods. Raimo’s shoulders sag, and I realize he was ready to clear a path for us to leave the square by force if he had to. My guards rush forward and haul Ivette from the ground. One of them hoists her into his arms because she seems unable to walk.

  “I will wait to hear if you will accept the help of the temple in rebuilding,” I say. “Council, I will meet with you in the morning. We have things to discuss.” I let the last word come out of me in a hiss, a selfish indulgence that doesn’t completely quell my anger at them. Instead of working with me, they are letting old prejudices drive their actions. I want to shake each and every one of them.

  “Remember that we are one people,” I shout across the square. “Remember that, or we will fall, and my magic will never be enough to protect you. It requires your loyalty to survive.”

  My words seem to strike many of them right in the heart. I see many nods, but many heads remain still, bearing eyes that gaze upon me with a new kind of chill. I feel every icy stare as I am carried from the square.

  I have won the life of Ivette. I have forged a very temporary peace.

  But I am afraid I am losing my people in the process.

  When we arrive back at the temple, I call on Kaisa to take care of Ivette. The woman is insensible with fear, and she has no idea how to control her power. Raimo tells Kaisa to mix up a sleeping draught to calm her down, because she nearly freezes the blood of the guard who carried her from the square in her reluctance to let him go.

  “I didn’t know,” she says, sobbing. “I didn’t know it would happen.”

  Her magic is not the only thing preying on her mind—today she ended the life of a child. My throat is tight with sorrow as I watch Kaisa lead her to the apprentice quarters, which remain standing even after the quake, being on the east side of the temple like the quarters of the Saadella. My Valtia chambers are impassable, and that wing has been abandoned.

  Raimo sees me looking with longing toward my sanctuary. “The entire temple will collapse if we have another bad quake, and it’s only a matter of time.” He hobbles in the direction of the library, and I walk by his side.

  “Do you have any answers for me?” I ask.

  He gives me a sidelong glance. “I’m still seeking them.”

  There is something in his voice. Hesitation. “But you did find something.”

  “I am one old man. One mind. And I am staggeringly stupid in the face of all the secrets of this land and the magic it nurtures.”

  We have reached the library, where I see that the scrolls have been neatly stacked on a table in the center of the room. A star chart is laid out on the only remaining flat surface. I recognize it. “That’s the prophecy. The one that predicts how the Suurin will join the Astia and save Kupari when all hope is lost.”

  Raimo stands over the chart. He’s so stooped that a few wisps of his scraggly beard brush its surface. “I’m not sure about anything yet.”

  “But you have some idea, and you think you’re right.” I stand close, watching the twitchy movement of his fingers over the parchment.

  “Elli, you must prepare yourself for what’s coming.”

  “You’ve been saying that since we first met, and truly, that’s all I’ve been doing! I’m not sure there’s anything I can’t face at this point. Haven’t I proved that?”

  His hand crumples the parchment in one violent movement, and he tosses the ruined prophecy to the floor. “I have never understood why the stars are so cruel to those who are so young. Why can’t they come for those like me who have earned their ire?”

  “Does it predict my death? Because I am ready for that. I have been ready since I was chosen. You know that.”

  He turns to me. “No, it does not predict your death. Which doesn’t mean you won’t die, only that it hasn’t been foretold by the stars.”

  I am ashamed of the loosening of my muscles at that news. “And Lahja?” Because if she dies, I will die too. We are linked so tightly, my heart and spirit to hers, whether I have magic to give her or not. That little girl is mine.

  “No. The Saadella is not even a part of this. For all I know, the magic will pass to her and the line will continue—if the land continues to exist. But, Elli, that’s the problem. I can’t see past what is happening now. No prophecy exists that tells of a time that is far in the future, though we used to have predictions that spanned for years. The elders must have realized it—I’ve read every chart, every prophecy, and all have come to pass. They knew what they were doing. And there is nothing past this season. Past now.”

  I feel as if my bones have turned soft, and hold the table for support. “You can’t be predicting that this is the end of Kupari. Why wouldn’t you have mentioned this before now?”

  “Because there is hope! In war, and in the winning of it, there is hope. And I foresaw a battle, one fought by the Suurin and the Astia against a terrible force.”

  “A force.”

  His mouth twists. “I assumed a human force. An army.”

  “And now you think it’s this. The land falling apart.”

  “It could be both, for all I know.”

  “The Suurin and I will face it, then. Sig has returned to us. That has to be a good sign, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re a child,” he says quietly. “You are just a child. So is Oskar. So is Sig.”

  “All of us are children compared to you.” I try to lighten my voice and earn a smile, because the way he looks right now is terrifying me.

  What I receive instead is the shine of tears in his eyes, and that is the most frightening thing of all. “Now you will tell me everything,” I say. “Enough with evasion. If I am to face it, take off my blindfold and let me see.”

  “Know
ing changes nothing. It only adds to your burden.”

  “And it should be my choice!” Now I am the one who is shaky.

  “Elli, you know the truth already.” His eyes meet mine, and it feels as if the ground has dropped from under me.

  “Oskar, you mean.”

  “Sig, too.”

  “You believe they will not survive the battle.” Yes, I knew this. Yes, I have known for some time. And yes, I have refused to think about it too much, because the thought of losing Oskar makes me want to curl in on myself around the gash in my heart and the loss of a future I have built in my dreams. Where there used to be nothing but darkness, there is now an empire of hope.

  It looks like this: If we found the Valtia, and if she could rule . . . what would stop Oskar and me from being together? With me to siphon his magic and keep him well, what would stop us from having a life?

  I bow my head as a tear rolls down my cheek. “You could be wrong.”

  “I could be.”

  “Tell me how you think it happens.”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Are you lying again?”

  With an impatient sigh, he crosses the room and stoops to pick up the discarded parchment. “You want to try to make sense of this?” he says. “Go ahead.” He tosses it onto the table. “I can take no more tonight.”

  “That’s too bad,” I say, my voice turning hard. “I need you to help me decide what to do. Do you think the quakes are happening because the copper has been drained from the earth?”

  “I think it very likely.”

  “Then I want us to put it back. We can melt it and let it flow back into the veins of the earth.”

  “Elli, there is nothing in that prophecy about—”