CHAPTER 56

QUEEN MALINA

When I'm sure that the soldiers aren't following me anymore, when I'm sure they've left me to my fate, I skid to a stop on the bridge.

I stand upon the gray dirt, panting, hardly able to see more than the hand in front of my face with how thick the haze is.

Inside this vaporous shroud, sound is muffled. I no longer feel the lash of the wind or hear the Stone Swords or whatever commotion was coming further away from the castle. I can't see any part of Seventh Kingdom either.

It's as if I'm in a different world. One where I'm utterly alone.

With one hand, I reach blindly forward until I grip the rough rope that hangs between the balustrades, needing it to steady me.

Then I slip my other hand into my dress pocket and take out the dagger I stowed. I stare down at it, and my hands start to shake.

I feel the tender slices down my palms. A vivid reminder of the night the fae twins cut them and how I let my blood drip down to fuse with their magical ceremony.

Do you know why we chose you?

They chose me because I was the right royal.

They chose me because they couldn't re-form the bridge alone.

They chose me…because blood matters.

I thought it was a good idea to sneak into the atrium to hide. My scholar can't come all the way up these stairs with his knobby knees to find me, anyway. He'll be looking all over. That will teach him to strike my hands with his switch.

Except when I come into the glass room, I hear voices. I start to back out, but I stop when I recognize my mother talking. My stomach dips though, because it sounds like she's crying.

Why is she crying?

Spinning around, I duck between the trailing plants and follow her voice. I spot her sitting at the water fountain. She's wearing a pretty blue dress, her dark blonde hair braided around her head. White blossoms and dark green leaves surround her while the fountain flows. It usually makes her happy to be in here, but right now, she's not happy. Her cheeks are wet and her eyes are red.

She's with Mender Fyce, and I freeze when I see him taking a needle out of her arm. Blood drips out of the spot and he murmurs something to her. My stomach gets a bit queasy. I don't like seeing blood.

"Mother?" I call nervously.

Her head snaps over and her brows lift. "Malina, what are you doing up here?"

I skitter over and stop in front of her, watching as the mender quickly dabs at her arm, cleaning up the wound. "I will dispose of this, Your Majesty," he says, holding a big vial in his hand. "Try to rest today."

My eyes widen. "Is that your blood in there?"

"It's alright, darling," she says to me, distracting me from the vial before she turns back to the mender. "Thank you, Fyce."

He bows and then walks away, leaving the two of us alone.

"Why did he take your blood?" I ask anxiously. "Why are you crying?"

My mother looks pale and sad, and I don't like it at all.

"Come here," she says, patting her knee.

I jump up, but when she winces, I know I've hurt her, and it makes me want to cry. "What's wrong, Mother?"

She rocks me a little bit and rubs my back. "I've been feeling a little ill lately. The menders are helping, that's all."

"Ill?" I say, worried. "Like a tummy ache?"

"A little bit like that."

"Is that why you've been sleeping so much?"

She presses her finger into my side, making me ticklish. "Well, I've got to keep up with you! And you have so much energy, so I need to sleep extra long in the mornings," she teases.

My giggle from her tickling fades away as I look at her. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes, of course," she says before kissing me on the forehead.

"If your blood's no good, I could give you some of mine," I offer, holding out my arm. "Maybe it will give you some of my energy?"

She smiles, but her eyes go shiny. My bottom lip wobbles, because I worry I've said something wrong.

But Mother takes my offered arm and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist. "Your blood is far more precious than mine, my darling."

"Your blood is important too!" I insist. "You're a queen!"

She taps a finger to the tip of my nose. "Ah, but you are a Colier by blood," she says before petting over my white hair. "And you will be queen one day."

I consider this. "Am I going to be tired too?"

Mother laughs, the sound filling up the atrium, but I chew on my lip nervously. When she notices, her expression softens. "Queens do get tired, but we push through."

I frown. "But why?"

She pauses for a moment, looking me over. "Do you remember how I've told you the stories about when you were a baby? When I would hold you all hours of the night because you wouldn't stop crying and you didn't want to be put down or be held by anyone other than me?"

"Yes."

"Being a mother to a baby is a bit like being a queen," she explains. "We have to care for others, we have responsibilities, and we have people who depend on us. We may be tired or sad or perhaps even ill, but a queen makes sure to take care of her people just as she'd take care of her baby."

I play with the frills at her collar. "I'm sorry I made you tired when I was a baby."

Maybe if I hadn't, she wouldn't be so tired and ill now.

"Don't be," she says with a smile as she brushes a warm hand across my cheek. "To be a queen and a mother is an honor. I give all that I can because I love this kingdom, and because I love you." She reaches down and squeezes my hand. Hers looks so strong and pretty next to my small and stubby fingers. "One day, you'll be a queen and a mother, and you'll be far better at both than I am."

My eyebrows drop, because I can't imagine such a thing. "But you're a wonderful mother, and you're a perfect queen. Everyone says so. I don't think I could ever be as good as you."

A tear suddenly drops down her cheek, even though she's still trying to smile. It makes me want to cry too. I keep saying the wrong things. I'm not making her feel better at all.

"Ah, but you have this strong, precious Colier blood, remember?" she says, tracing a finger down the lines of the blue veins on my arm. "This will help you in both roles. You're going to be the greatest queen Highbell has ever seen."

"How do you know?" I ask nervously. I want it to be true, but I'm not sure I could ever be as good as she is. Everyone loves her.

Mother cups my face with both hands, her gray eyes looking between each of mine. "Because unlike me, you were born for this. You're going to be exactly what this kingdom needs, Malina, because it's in your blood."

She kisses me on the hand and then settles me back onto the ground. "Now run back down and return to your lessons before your poor scholar walks himself into a limp looking all over for you."

I nod reluctantly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Mother gives me a little smile. "Of course I am, darling."

She died four months later.

That memory blows out as quickly as it sparked. A brief flash, gone in a blink. Tears coat my cheeks, freezing with the frigid air. My mother was wrong. I wasn't a great queen for Highbell. I didn't become what it needed.

I became its downfall.

Yet despite my failures, I do have the right blood. So now, I need to use it to right the wrong I committed when I willingly let this bridge be remade. Perhaps, by doing this, I can finally be who she believed I would be. Who I should have been from the start.

By standing here and giving Orea my everything. By giving the bridge one last offering.

An offering of blood. And willingness.

Because that is what the twins meant. They gave me the answer through their mockery. It's what the bridge represents, and that monumental knowing has given me crystal-clear clarity, even here, within the veiled air.

Down the bridge, distant wind churns the fog. Down in my chest, my heart drips.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and then lift the dagger, but my hand shakes so badly that I can't hold it still.

Tears leak from my eyes, and my teeth chatter. My body has finally thawed enough to feel the chill, only for me to stand here and freeze. To let the warmth I've earned drain right back out.

Such a sad thought.

"Malina!"

I flinch in surprise as Dommik appears out of the thick fog like a wraith. His eyes are wild, hood thrown back, face full of fear.

"What are you doing?" he shouts, and I notice he's covered in blood spatter. That he's probably had to fight his way through to get to me.

"You shouldn't be here, Dommik!" I yell desperately.

"Let's go!" He tries to take my arm, to pull me away, but I don't budge. "What are you doing?" he demands again.

I hate hearing the panic in his voice. The terrified confusion.

Swallowing hard, I look him in the eye. "I can't go, Dommik."

"What the fuck do you mean?" he growls out.

"Blood matters," I say urgently, except how could I begin to explain? Yet I have to, because now he's followed me here and I have to tell him the truth.

So I do. With heavy words that stack up only to weigh me down.

"It has to be me."

His eyes flare as they search for answers in mine. Answers I tried to shield him from. But it seems I can't hide from an assassin who travels in shadows.

"This is what was wrong. When I asked you before," he says, piecing it together. "What did those fae tell you? They're tricking you, Malina!"

His body is tense and poised, his survival instincts spiking. I can see he wants to rush, to run. I can see that he thinks there's still a chance for that.

But he doesn't understand yet. This was the bridge to nowhere.

Until a girl willingly walked it and went into a different realm. Until a fae came and bound the worlds together, because the two of them, Orean and fae, willed it so. Because a different fae then willed it to break. And because I willed it to repair.

" Willingness ," I say thickly, trying to make him understand. "Willingness has always been the price for the bridge."

"Malina, please. Let's get off this bridge. Let's go and talk about this…"

I shake my head and grip his hand firmly. "It has to be me," I say again, tone pleading with him to understand. "The moment I willingly gave my Orean blood to repair what the fae had broken, the bridge's life…tied to mine."

He gapes at me, blood draining from his face.

I swallow hard, unable to stop my tears as they fall, as my hand shakes where it grips him. "But I can end it, Dommik. Not block it. Not break it. I can undo it."

His eyes widen as understanding fills his face. "No…" he says, shaking his head in denial. "We could…we could win. We could beat them back. If King Rot returns, maybe—"

"It doesn't matter," I say, cutting him off. "It doesn't matter if today, or even a hundred years from now, we manage to win. Unless we end it for good, history will always repeat itself. Even if we lived centuries in peace, that peace would fail just like it did before. Eventually, fae and Orean will always clash."

"Malina."

This utter grief in his voice is laced with his terror. It consumes me. Threatens to topple me. But I hold firm. Give him the smallest smile, even as my blue eyes pour.

"It's alright," I murmur. "I'm finally going to be the queen that Orea needs me to be."

Moisture runs through his gaze.

"So, please," I breathe, voice trembling. "I need you to go."

But the stubborn man shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you."

A sob breaks my throat. Shatters my tongue.

Down the bridge, a joined roar erupts and shakes the dirt I stand on, screaming out its threat. It fills me with terror. With determination.

I raise the dagger to my chest as tears drip off my face, and I hear my mother's words. You're going to be exactly what this kingdom needs, Malina, because it's in your blood.

This time, I can give Orea my blood. This time, I won't fail.

With wet, burning eyes, I look straight at Dommik and I plead. "I wish you'd go," I cry, my hand shaking so badly I can't keep the dagger lined up with my heart. "I wish you'd live ."

He lets out a choked breath before he reaches up to hold my face. Runs a thumb across my cheek. Kisses me softly.

"I'm your assassin, remember? I'm in charge of your death. So if it has to be you, then it has to be me too, Queenie," he says quietly. Heartbreakingly.

Then he reaches up and steadies my shaking hand, his fingers curling over mine where I'm gripping the hilt. "You don't have to face death without me. You don't have to go alone."

Despair flows past my thawed heart and drains out into the gray.

The outside world is closing in. I can feel the bridge vibrate with thousands of footsteps. The fog no longer able to muffle the roars of Orea's impending peril.

There's no more time.

My whole body quakes. When I glance down at the dagger with terror, Dommik takes my chin and makes me look back up at him.

His dark eyes make everything else disappear.

"It's only us. Just a Cold Queen and an assassin," he says quietly, and my throat squeezes.

"I wish we could've had longer together," I whisper brokenly.

He brushes the hair away from my face tenderly and stares into my fracturing eyes. "But we will have death together, and that is endless."

Heartache drowns me. Makes my words a hitching rasp. "I love you, Dommik."

His gaze bores in. "You own my heart, Malina."

We shiver beneath our shaken confessions.

The fog starts to dissipate, like it's being forced to pull back. From the corner of my eye, I see them. The monstrous fae come to spread their evil.

"They can't touch us," Dommik murmurs, gaze unwavering, touch calm and still. "Keep looking at me."

I nod, and then I let the terror exhale away. Let my mind go still. Because I am exactly where I need to be. Where I want to be.

Willingness .

"I'm ready."

I close my eyes with a sigh. I hear Dommik suck in a sob.

And then, with my assassin's help, I push the blade straight into my heart.

It pierces, cold and utterly agonizing.

The most fatal pain I could ever comprehend.

My breath yanks out of me. Eyes flare open as I rip the dagger back out.

The fatal pain storms. Icicle shards pouring out with the puncture. Damning damage of my life left to flood.

Time stops with my frantic gaze. Frost gathering at my lids and lips. Words caught in an icicle throat while snow flakes from my skin.

I stare at Dommik with wide eyes…and I feel my organ begin to fail.

Last beats, beating for my people. To do this one thing right.

To be exactly what my kingdom needs.

My knees crash to the ground, and my blood spills over the gray bridge. It hisses and steams on impact, even as shards of ice fall from my palms.

Dommik goes down onto his knees with me. Tears running down his dappled face. Then he wraps his hand around mine where I'm still holding the dagger, and he plunges it into his heart too.

When the roaring fae are only feet away, when my blood has soaked the surface and Dommik takes his last breath, the bridge suddenly explodes .

It shatters like ice. Obliterating in a blink.

The bridge doesn't break this time. It unmakes .

It's blaring and blinding. Light and mist and sound and void—all of it erupting out and sucking in.

Dommik and I are thrown off the gray surface that no longer exists. Leaving life behind with the final drops of our unbeating hearts.

With the last spot of vision, with our bodies wrapped tightly around each other, Dommik and I fall into the void.

Into the death.

Willingly .

As shadow and freeze, we embrace it together.

Then, the bridge is no more.

And neither…

are we.