CHAPTER 42

QUEEN MALINA

It's been several days, and yet smoke from the fae corpses still pollutes the air. The scent of burned bodies is foul enough as it is, but the scent of rotted burned bodies? Absolutely atrocious.

I look out at the land beyond. It was already an ugly, broken place, but now, the snow is coagulated with clots of Ravinger's rot. I trudge out of the ruins of Cauval Castle, where rot lines crawl up its outer walls like dead vines. My hand presses against the borrowed scarf that's wrapped around my nose and mouth to help me breathe past the stench.

Dommik pilfered from the bodies of the fae to get us more supplies before he started working his way through burning them. He presses flame to each prostrate form, ridding the land of their rotted corpses. We have plenty of food for the time being—but my appetite has soured with the smell.

I've instead been keeping busy with fortifying the bridge. Yet so far, no other fae have tried to come across. The bridge of Lemuria remains clear, and Seventh Kingdom empty.

Except for the dead, of course.

Today, I'm in a thick woolen dress and fleece leggings, with a furred collar at my throat and cuffs at my wrists. Dommik tells me it's much more practical for me to wear trousers, but I feel more myself in my dresses. Even if they are more difficult to manage when I walk through the thick snow.

When I reach the end of the path and stop in front of the bridge, I eye my fortifications critically. It's certainly better than what I managed at Highbell.

Unlike the attack on my city, I've had more time here.

I've also had the opportunity to continuously improve and add to them. Because I know that this is only a reprieve. More fae will come, it's just a matter of time. So I have to be ready.

The pillars that stand on either side of the bridge have been extended with ice, reaching twenty feet high. But that's as close as the bridge will allow my magic to work. I quickly learned that no matter what I do, my ice power can't touch the bridge itself.

I don't know if it repels all magic or if it perhaps has something to do specifically with mine. After all, we were both reborn at the same time, and with my blood.

To be perfectly honest, a part of me is relieved my ice power doesn't work on the bridge itself. I walked on it for a few steps after King Ravinger had disappeared down its foggy depths. Yet after only a few paces down the drab, unnatural dirt, I started to get a sense of utter wrongness. As if I didn't belong there and it wanted me off.

I didn't dare test it.

I turned right back around, safe on Seventh's snowy soil, and then I got to work. My barrier now blocks the entrance, from the pillars of the bridge to the very first inch of Seventh's land. I've created several layers, arcing them from left to right. This way, if the fae break through one part, it won't destroy the entire thing in one fell swoop like what happened in Highbell. It will give me more time to refortify, and give Dommik more time to assassinate. After all, the bridge is only so wide. It cannot fit more than two or three fae across at a time.

I've made the ground slick and slippery, and right now, I have six layers of defenses erected. Each one differs slightly, some with sharp icicles like spikes that jut out, some riddled with shards, while others are simply thick slabs.

I'm hoping that each layer is dense enough to sustain against either physical or magical force by the fae. Yet as I eye the rounded layer I worked on yesterday, I frown at the cracks that have formed from the weight. I must have made this one too tall. The structure is weakened because of it.

I need to fix it.

Drawing back the fur-lined hood from my face, I call up my icy magic. I don't have enough power to completely tear the barrier down and start again, because this took me all day. So instead, I try to mend the cracks, pressing my palms against each one, hoping to fill the little crevices.

I lose track of time as I travel from one end to the other, not even noticing that it's nearly dusk when I feel a hand on my shoulder that makes me jump in fright.

"It's me, Queenie," Dommik murmurs as I whirl around with a sharpened icicle raised in my fist. When he sees it, his brows lift. "Nicely done." He presses his gloved finger to its tip, and then clicks his tongue when it doesn't pierce through to his skin. "If you're going to try and stab me with ice, make sure it's sharp enough to do the job."

My eyes narrow as I toss away the icicle and yank down the scarf from my face. "It's not my job to kill anyone. Unlike you, assassin."

His mouth twitches. "At least your tongue is plenty sharp."

I pin him with a stare.

Unmoved, Dommik's gaze travels to the block wall I've been working on. "You're out here again?"

I turn and let my attention trace along the filled-in fissures. "It was cracking. I needed to fix it."

"You've been working on this every waking minute."

Irritation passes through me, because of course I have. "That is the entire point of us being here."

"But so far, no fae have come."

My frustration puffs up. "But they will , Dommik."

"We don't know that for sure," he says with a shrug. "Don't worry."

Scoffing, I turn away from him. "Why is it that some men seem to shake their heads and say don't worry ? As if it is a woman's affliction?"

"Because you're borrowing trouble."

My eyes flare. "I'm not borrowing anything. Trouble is coming, and we have to try to prepare for any outcome."

"And one of the outcomes could be that Ravinger killed the threat on the other side," Dommik offers.

"You are being foolish," I say as I stare through the ice. Even now, with everything quiet and clear, I can sense an impending bleakness. Like the shocked inhale of someone waking from a nightmare only to realize it wasn't a dream.

"Why?" he counters roughly. "We obviously know what he's capable of. It's not out of the realm of possibility."

"The fae realm being attached to ours is what should be out of the realm of possibility," I retort. "It's unnatural."

Dommik steps up beside me, and his shadows twist in thin strips at his feet. "I heard that this bridge was always here. Even before Orea was formed."

"Perhaps," I say, feeling the vitriol leave my tone. "That's what the lore says. Yet it wasn't attached to any other world. The bridge to nowhere led to nowhere. For centuries. Until a girl from Seventh Kingdom crossed it, and then the fae used their magic to bind us. Or so they say."

He's quiet for a moment and his eyes meet mine, dark irises with flecks of light. "Unless…"

I note the snow and ash caught on his cape. "Unless what?"

He looks toward the layers of ice as if he can see the bridge beyond. "Unless it was attached to something. To somewhere. Just…a different realm than Annwyn."

"Impossible," I say with a shake of my head.

He glances at me, dark brow cocked. "Why is it impossible?"

I wave my hand around. "Because Seventh Kingdom was obsessed with this bridge. They sent countless people down it. No one ever came back."

"Maybe they didn't want to. Or maybe it was a one-way trip."

"Guesses and conjecture," I tell him impatiently. "What is the point?"

He shrugs. "Maybe there is no point. I'm just saying that maybe our bridge to nowhere was lying. Maybe it led somewhere all along—a different realm where all those Oreans went and never came back."

"Well, we're dealing with this realm," I say peevishly as I rub at my temples and close my eyes, trying to ease the headache coming on. "Who knows when it's going to try to infect us with another onslaught?"

Dommik clasps my hand, making my eyes snap back open as he tugs it down and runs his thumb over mine. "You're using too much magic," he mutters. "You need to take a break. Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yes."

"Liar."

"Well, it's positively putrid. Who has an appetite breathing this in all day?" I gesture behind us to the land with streams of smoke rising from several dozen bodies.

Dommik curses. "You should have said something."

"Said what exactly? The stench must be bothering you too."

"I've been around a lot of corpses. Burned a lot of them."

"But not rotten , burning corpses," I point out.

He hums, neither confirming nor denying. Then he starts to tug me away from the wall. "Come on."

I resist, trying to yank my hand from his. "There are a few more cracks—"

"Leave them. You need to eat."

With a sigh, I relent and let him lead me through the snow, because I am weakened. I'm tired and feeling empty. Yet instead of heading toward the front of the ruined castle, he veers us to the right, toward the back. "Why are we going this way?"

"Just going for a walk, Queenie."

"A walk?"

He looks over with a smirk. "Yes. A walk. I thought you'd be familiar. Isn't that what you royal ladies do in your spare time? Take a promenade around your different palatial rooms or through your gardens?"

"I loathe walking."

Dommik laughs. "Sure you do."

"I thought you were going to make me eat?"

"I am. Now stop needling me and just walk."

An irritated sigh escapes me, but I stop trying to pull from his grip. "Fine."

Together, we walk behind the ruins of the castle. I haven't been back this way, so I eye the crumbled structure, the gaping walls and the missing roofs. My tutors had paintings of this castle, of what it supposedly looked like before it was destroyed. It was once quite beautiful. Now, it looks like a husk. A skeleton with all the guts and life scooped out.

Dommik and I walk in silence as we pass it by, and after several minutes, we're still walking. Still silent. Though the tension starts to leave me the further I get from the bridge. The further I get from Cauval.

I feel myself physically decompress, all my squeezed muscles and rigid bones finally going loose. I let out a sigh, and Dommik's thumb grazes over my hand.

Above us, the gray-hued sky darkens, not quite night, not quite day, but stuck somewhere in between. I eye the edge of the world at our right, wondering how many people have tipped over into the void.

Dommik notices me stealing glances, so he starts tugging me toward it. I instantly snap my grip, trying to pull him away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Come on."

My mouth pinches.

"Trust me, Queenie."

I hesitate, but then for some strange reason, I let him pull me toward it. We go right up to the end, and then Dommik actually sits down.

Sits . At the edge of the world.

"Get up!" I hiss in fear.

He laughs and then pats the snow beside him. "Sit with me."

I feel my eyes nearly bug out of my sockets. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Scared of heights?" he teases, looking up at me.

"Of course not."

He continues to stare, while I bristle, his face utterly calm but thoroughly challenging. "It's okay. If you can't do it…"

I press my lips together tightly. Yet because my ornery streak refuses to back down from Dommik's provocation, I carefully sidle forward and settle onto the snow beside him. He reaches over and uncurls my legs, making them untangle until my feet dangle over the edge of the world.

I nearly hyperventilate.

Nearly . I don't, of course, because I am still a queen.

"There," Dommik says with a grin. "How do you feel?"

"Like I want to stab you," I grind out, scared stiff.

Instead of teasing me, he shakes his head calmly. "No, Queenie. Look. Take it in."

He points ahead at the nothing. The vaporous ether of fog in front of us that seems to never end. Then at the dark void below us that holds our world cradled in its bottomless grasp.

I breathe in a shuddering breath and stare at it, doing as he said and trying to simply take it in.

After a few minutes, the fear of falling actually loosens its hold around me. Then, I realize that sitting here and facing the edge of the world is actually quite…liberating.

"That's it…" Dommik encourages as he takes my hand. "How do you feel now?"

"I feel…small," I admit. "Only, in a good way."

Because this makes our problems feel smaller too.

We are only two specks sitting at the fringe of a world. A world that has seen so many other people. And something about that makes me feel like this threat we face is small enough that perhaps we just might overcome it.

So I let out a breath, and I smile out at the void, because now, it doesn't seem so dismal after all.

Perhaps it just takes sitting at the edge of your world to find a little bit of hope.