CHAPTER 15

QUEEN MALINA

Their faith in me forms a lump in my throat as we hurry toward the city. We trek through shin-high snow, the forest thickening with a blanket of heat that emanates from the encroaching flames. I keep us heading toward the trees that aren't yet consumed, in hopes that we can edge around the fire.

My people follow me, I follow the smoke, and all the while, the Pitching Pines burn. Their icicle needles crack as they fall. This forest, which has flourished for so many generations and outlived so many kings and battles and storms…is dying right in front of our eyes.

And we'll die too if we stay here. They'll die because of me .

We venture through the forest, everyone traveling as quickly as they're able. Yet we have the frail, the old, the young, the hurt. With all of us weak, trudging through the thick snow and cloying smoke makes us slower.

Though the threat of the biting fire keeps us moving.

The consuming flames growl with insatiable hunger as they eat through the pine trees with quickening speed, spreading faster from the wind. Ash blows with it, speckling our clothes and falling down like snow. The scent of burning pine chars my nose, and the faraway crack of falling trees sets my teeth on edge.

As we get closer to the city, the flames get closer too. No longer do we have a comfortable space between us where the trees are still untouched at the edge. Now, the heat of the flames pulses against the left side of my body, the light of the orange glow festering on my cheek. I keep part of my cloak against my mouth and nose, but the scent of smoke is overwhelming.

The fire is getting too close. Far too close.

"Keep going!"

I turn around, checking, counting—always counting to ensure I haven't left anyone behind. The mother and her daughter have fallen to the back of the group with the street sweepers, and another woman is passed out in her husband's arms. His arms shake, but he doesn't drop her.

The fire is loud, rivaling even the panic pounding in my ears. The flames are closing in, the smoke making it hard to see. My eyes burn as much as my lungs, and my people are coughing into their own face coverings, their skin getting stained by the fumes.

CRACK!

My head whips up to the left, just as a giant pine snaps at its base, succumbing to the chomp of the flames. Within seconds, it starts to fall, its trajectory heading right for us.

"Move!"

Everyone breaks away, running from the tree, running for their lives. A woman trips and falls, and my heart falls with her, but another man lashes out for her hand and pulls her toward him a split second before the tree lands.

It barely misses her.

The fallen pine is covered in fire, splitting our group down the middle. Right before my eyes, the top of it carries the flame to the untouched part of the forest and spreads with horrifying speed.

Now, we have flames on both sides of us, closing in. Surrounding us.

The length of the fallen tree stretches far on either side, and it's nearly too high for me to see over. Yet I catch a glimpse of the panicked faces of everyone else on the other side. They look left and right, the flames stopping them from being able to go around.

Another crack in the forest spurs me into action, and magic collects in my hands, shards of ice gathering.

I will it toward the trunk, and ice shoots out, covering it like a drape. The flames extinguish as ice melds over the bark, and my magic forms an arch. The group on the other side hurries over it, steps slipping on the slick path. Two men on my side help them all, gripping hands as everyone climbs over.

As soon as our entire group is together again, I urge them on. "Hurry!"

This time, we run as fast as possible, even where the snow is so thick it threatens to bowl us over. Smoke clogs my nose, shards of ice stick to my hands, and cold sweat dots my skin.

What if I made the wrong choice? What if we're all going to die in this fire?

Being a queen in a castle was nothing compared to leading my people through this forest. How trivial it all seems now. How wasted. I should have been here all along.

Instead, I was stuck.

Stuck in the sequestering rooms of the castle. Stuck with my nose in the air. Stuck up , when I should have been standing up—for them.

This is what it means , I think to myself as I urge them on. This is what a queen should really be. A protector. A caregiver. A matriarch.

I have to keep them going.

Dari falls, tripping over a snow pile, and Neira goes sprawling. Dari tries to stand and pick up her daughter again, but she grimaces as soon as she puts weight on her ankle. I rush over and gather the small girl from the ground. She clings to me, trembling all over, her fear taking hold of her quaking muscles.

Two men help Dari, bracing her upright, and she shoots me a grateful look before they start hauling her forward, while Neira buries her face against my neck. She's so very small, so very scared.

And the fault is my own.

My hollow stomach rebels, nausea swimming at the back of my tongue. My body is exhausted, energy waned, but behind us, beside us, all around, the fire rages. While in my arms, an innocent little girl cries against my throat.

I can't fail her. I can't fail them.

"There it is!"

My eyes fly up at the man's call, and relief sweeps through me like a rush of cool water. Rooftops . I can see rooftops through the pines.

We're almost to the city.

I hurry ahead, a burst of speed spurred along by hope.

We can make it.

Once I'm at the front of the group, I hand over the little girl to one of the men, but Dari takes her. The line of trees finally ends, and just down the slope is Highbell. My hope leaps even higher when I see that some of these outskirt buildings aren't charred through or burnt completely down.

Along this street of the shanties, homes still stand. Perhaps too poor and decrepit for the fae to worry about torching, because they already look ruined. Fortunately, they're far enough from the forest's edge that we should be safe from the flames so long as the fire doesn't jump the street.

I count everyone again, letting out a breath when all are accounted for. They're panting hard and streaked with ash and sweat, but they're here.

"Alright, I'll lead the way. Stay behind me. No talking. I'll find us a building where you'll all be safe. Then I'll go out in search of supplies."

Everyone nods, seemingly too weary to speak.

My attention focuses as I turn, gaze searching for any movement or danger. Yet the street ahead seems silent and empty. The storied homes are crooked and dilapidated, shared yards nothing but broken walls covered in snow.

Other than some charring against some of the stone, it looks far better than any of the buildings at the heart of the city, and blessedly free of fae.

I set my sights on the building that's closest to the tree line and then start leading the way down the slope. I'll get us into one of these houses, and once everyone is inside and secure, I'll search for supplies.

One positive is that with the amount of smoke already polluting the air, I don't believe it will be a risk to have a fire of our own, so my people can gather around a fireplace to warm up while I look for food.

As soon as I get them settled, I'll return to the tree line and shoot up a line of magic for Dommik to see, though I'll need to do it in a way that's not too obvious, yet enough for him to spot through the smoke.

One problem at a time.

With my plan in place, I feel more settled, more sure of myself. The snow bank opens up and swallows my feet with every step, but I ignore it as I heft my legs forward. If it weren't for the frigid magic beneath my skin, I have a feeling I'd be frozen through, so I know my people desperately need to get out of the elements.

Someone lets out a garbled cry, and I flinch at the sound that seems to echo. When I turn around, I see two people have fallen, the bottom halves of their bodies sinking into the thick snow. Four others rush in to help pull them out.

My heart pounds, head whipping around to make sure we haven't been discovered. Yet the street stays quiet and empty.

As soon as my people are back on their feet, there's a new sense of urgency in my veins. We're too out in the open. I need to get them inside.

I wave my hand at them and hurry the rest of the way down the shallow slope. At the bottom, I stop and wait for the others, counting them once more.

When the last one has made it down, I glance up at the fire consuming the forest. Black smoke pours from hundred-foot flames, the sound of a thousand beasts consuming branches like snapping bones of dead prey. I turn around to face the street again, while the world burns at my back.

They follow me in a huddled group, and we go around the first building. There's a torn tarp and a broken cart inside the yard, though the snowbank is taller than the fence posts. The building itself is a mishmash of stonework for the bottom level and wood for the next two levels. The roof sags around the ash-stained chimney, but otherwise, it's intact.

We walk along its side and I stop everyone before I peer around the corner. There are abandoned buckets and broken crates up and down the cracked street, and puddles crusted with frost. Doors either sag against thresholds or are missing completely, while windows lie shattered and trash litters the street.

"The fae have been through here," I murmur.

Dari shifts Neira in her arms as she peeks out to look, but then she shakes her head. "No, Majesty. The shanties always look like this. Looks like the fae didn't bother to come down here at all."

Shock hits me in the chest. "This…this wasn't ransacked?"

She shakes her head again. "This is how it is out here. We live just down the way."

Shame like I've never felt before curdles my stomach, its spoiled, slimy fingers reaching up my face. I can't reply. All I'm able to do is stare at this street and feel the guilt soak in.

This is how the poor in my kingdom's capital lived. This is what they had to look forward to when they went home each night. They didn't even own these homes. The city's nobles rented them out, every building parceled off. Some of the streets were even owned by the crown.

How is it that I've been perched in a gilded castle, towering over these streets, without ever looking at what was truly here?

Because I didn't want to see.

That's the truth of it. I didn't want to see because I didn't want to care. Once you decide not to care, you can justify any amount of negligence. And that's what this is.

Negligence.

It's nailed into every dilapidated board and caught between the cracks of every broken stone. It's nudged between the shattered windows and pieces of litter and the puddles of frozen filth. I've neglected my people so thoroughly that it's no wonder they hated me.

To think, I came down from my castle in a gilded carriage with armored guards and pretended to care by passing out a few coins that cost me nothing, while they lived like this.

What an absolutely disgusting queen I was.

My stomach has soured, but I swallow down the bile in my throat.

The silence I've dropped is picked up by Dari. "Our entire street ran," she says quietly, tone rasping, sounding parched and tired. "See that two-story building there?" she continues, gesturing forward. "Bottom floor is my house. All of us on the street ran for it. Made it down a few blocks, too, but not past that. Dommik brought me my girl and told me to go to the Pines. I tried to tell the others, but not many listened. The ones who kept going got killed."

My eyes burn hotter. From my peripheral, I see Neira squirm, hear her whimper against her mother's chest. Perhaps she's recalling that day when she was injured and terrified, when she was seeing her neighbors being massacred.

Dari clears her throat, blinking like she's remembering herself. She holds her daughter tighter. "But that place just there with the tin over its eave? Been in it plenty of times when I helped watch some little ones who lived there. That building is one of the sturdiest on the street and never did leak too bad neither. We can go in there, Majesty. Won't be any dead left behind in it. They're all gone."

Her face is haunted, her tone cracking.

I stare ahead at where she's pointing. The three-story building stands directly across from us, with a rickety staircase that leads to two other doors on the upper levels, and one lonely window with its shutter hanging off. The front door is intact however, which is more than I can say for some of the other houses.

"I'll go first."

Darting my eyes left and right, I lead them across the street. Every footstep that thumps just a little too loudly makes my nerves tighten. After hiding within the cover of the trees for the past weeks, being out in the open like this makes me feel vulnerable.

"Hurry," I whisper.

We're so close. Salvation and safety just feet away. Everyone looks ready to collapse, but so very relieved .

Almost there.

My steps are hurried, clumps of snow falling off my boots with every stride like trailing breadcrumbs. I make it to the door, and my stiff fingers wrap around the metal handle. When the latch gives way and the door opens, I glance inside the dark, empty space as if it's a balm to my soul.

We made it.

"Okay," I say, turning. "Everyone in—"

"What do we have here?"

Everything in me freezes. My blood stops like it's iced over, plugging up every vein.

Jerking around, I see them file out of another shoddy building just three houses up, and my stomach plummets.

The fae have found us.