Chapter Twenty-one

To Thea's great relief, she and her sisters weren't thrown into Aveum's ice dungeons, but nor were they taken straight to the queen. They had been escorted to the royal guest quarters, which Thea found laughable considering the heirs of Delmira were still considered threats to the realm. But threat or not, apparently there was no greater danger than to offend a visiting royal. The quarters they'd been given were the most lavish Thea had ever seen. It was a suite of adjoining rooms, each housing a four-poster bed draped in silks, each with its own hearth, bathing chamber and balcony that overlooked the great frozen lake below.

The rooms opened out into a formal lounge and dining area, as though Thea, Wren and Anya might feel the need to entertain their own guests in the floating domes. Another laughable consideration. The only person they wanted to see was Queen Reyna, and she hadn't deigned to answer their request for an audience, not since they'd arrived three days ago.

Thea tried to keep at bay her growing sense of dread that Reyna might be colluding with King Artos, giving away their whereabouts and holding them here until he arrived. But they were not treated like prisoners. All three of them had left their suite and perused the domes as freely as they might have done in their own homes, but their patience was wearing thin.

In secret, they worked on their magic together, sharing the methods they'd used to control their own, trying to figure out how to forge a connection between the storm within each of them. But the confines of a palace were no place for summoning thunder and lightning, and so their practice was limited. When they weren't discussing magic, they talked of their family and what little they could remember of their parents.

On the third night of their stay, Anya showed Thea and Wren the letters she'd found, written in their mother's hand. The young women pored over the pieces of parchment before the fire, getting to know the former Queen of Delmira by her loopy scrawl and loving descriptions of her daughters to her friend, Queen Yolena of Naarva.

‘It's so surreal,' Wren murmured, tracing over the cursive. ‘She's talking about us… Anya had a dress she wouldn't change out of. Thea had a favourite stick she carried everywhere, and I… Apparently I had a tendency to eat grass.'

Thea laughed, but seeing Wren's expression taut with anguish, she went to her. ‘It's not fair that this is how we meet her. That this is all we get.'

‘No, it's not.'

Anya watched them closely. No doubt she had already gone through the same grief when she'd first discovered the letters, but judging from her watery gaze, she shared their pain anew.

‘Yolena talks about her sons…' Thea ventured. ‘It's strange to think that somewhere out there are lost heirs of Naarva.'

Anya nodded. ‘Not that they'll be any help to us now… Where are you up to?'

Thea glanced down at the letters. ‘Our mother is writing about… her sense of dread, for the days to come.'

‘I think she might have suspected Artos all along,' Anya said. ‘She doesn't name him, but there's a lot of references to feelings that seem unexplained, reactions that don't align with the situation. That sounds like empath magic to me. Like he was there, manipulating everything for a long time before the kingdom fell.'

‘We could show these letters to Queen Reyna,' Wren suggested, looking up from the sheets of parchment surrounding her.

‘We could,' Anya allowed. ‘Though I don't know how much it would help. She could just as easily say we forged them.'

Wren sighed. ‘I suppose she has to actually deign to see us first, anyway.'

‘True.'

‘Do you think she has seen something?' Thea asked, opening the tin of salve Wren had given her. She'd been applying it to her scarred wrist since they'd arrived, and of course, Wren was a genius; the balm soothed the ache there almost instantly.

Her sister's brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Like a vision,' Thea clarified. ‘When I was here for the eclipse, she mentioned a premonition she'd had. Only she didn't realise that it was about Artos, not Wilder…'

‘Who knows,' Anya said. ‘Seers are notoriously unreliable – not to mention Reyna is in the throes of grief for her husband. Even if she did have a vision, I wouldn't trust it for all the ale in the Singing Hare.'

‘Speaking of that place,' Wren interjected, looking to Thea. ‘Was that a tattoo I saw on Cal's arse the other day?'

Thea snorted. ‘Yes, it was.'

Anya baulked. ‘Why on earth are you seeing Callahan'sarse?'

‘Apparently while I was off doing the Great Rite, they saw fit to get blind drunk at the Singing Hare and Cal somehow wound up with a tattoo of a fox on his backside.'

Anya blinked, once, twice, and then tipped her head back and roared laughing. The sound came from deep in her belly, and she actually clutched her stomach with one hand, wiping the tears streaming from her eyes with the other.

Thea gaped. She'd never seen the fearless Daughter of Darkness laugh like that before. She found herself grinning, and then laughing with her.

Wren was shaking her head. ‘There's never a dull moment with those two…'

‘Kipp's apparently determined to make you fall in love with him,' Thea said.

‘Kipp's an idiot and a flirt. I'd sooner pluck out my own eyes and eat them.'

‘I told him as much.' Thea grinned before turning her attention on their older sister. ‘And what about you?'

Anya raised a brow. ‘What about me?'

‘Anyone, uh… tickling your fancy?'

Anya scoffed. ‘Who says that?'

‘People.'

‘I disagree.'

‘There's a shock.' Thea smirked. ‘But that doesn't answer the question.'

Anya looked amused. ‘There's no one tickling my fancy,' she replied slowly. ‘But…'

‘But?' Wren leant in eagerly.

Anya sighed. ‘But I fucked Dratos before we left.'

‘What?' Thea and Wren cried in unison.

‘Oh, don't make a big song and dance about it.' Anya waved them off. ‘It was a one-time thing. A mistake. We were drunk and stupid.'

‘And?' Thea pressed.

‘And what?'

Thea exchanged a smirk with Wren. ‘How was it?'

‘You're not seriously asking me that.'

Thea shrugged. ‘Isn't that what sisters do?'

‘I wouldn't know,' Anya replied.

Wren got to her feet and pulled both Thea and Anya in for an embrace, during which Anya looked about as uncomfortable as Thea felt. The three of them had never embraced…

But Wren squeezed them together. ‘We can make this sister thing whatever we want it to be,' she said quietly. ‘I, for one, would like to be able to talk to you both, about anything and everything. We might have been robbed of our earlier years together…' She gave Anya a sad smile. ‘But even Thea and I weren't as close as we could have been. I'd like to change that.'

Thea struggled to swallow the lump forming in her throat, and when she glanced at Anya, she saw tears tracking down her face.

‘I'd like that,' the Daughter of Darkness croaked.

Wren smiled. ‘Good.'

‘Me too,' Thea said.

They stood there, their arms wrapped around one another before the fire, and despite the weight of her fate stone pressing against her sternum, Thea was glad. If this was sisterhood, she thought, it wasn't half bad.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. It opened to reveal an Aveum guard. ‘The queen will see you now,' he said with a sweep of his hand.

The sisters broke apart. Baffled, Thea looked to the clock above the mantle, noting how late the hour was. It didn't feel like a terribly good sign, to say the least. They followed the guard from the room all the same, exchanging suspicious glances.

To Thea's surprise, they were not taken to the throne room or any sort of formal receiving space, but to the queen's private residences. They were ushered inside, finding the rooms within dimly lit, the air stale. Thea had expected countless attendants and ladies in waiting, but as they moved through the suite, they found it empty.

At last, they were shown into a sitting room, smaller and less grand than the rest of the quarters. On a wooden chair by the fire sat Queen Reyna.

Thea tried to mask her shock. The last time she'd seen the winter queen, Reyna had been resplendent in a beautiful gown, glittering jewels atop her head. She'd commanded the attention of the entire throne room with a lift of her chin, the flick of a wrist, every bit the ruler of a kingdom. But now… now she was a husk of her former self.

Grief had aged her. She sat hunched over in a tattered robe, her hair dirty and unkempt, falling loose around her weary face. Her gaze was hollow when she looked upon the three sisters.

Together, they bowed, albeit awkwardly.

‘So…' Queen Reyna said slowly, her voice hoarse from apparent disuse. ‘The heirs of Delmira have come forward at last.' Her eyes fell to Thea, emotionless. ‘You…'

‘For what it's worth,' Thea told her, ‘I didn't know until I became a Guardian, and even then, it has taken me until now to come to terms with it.'

‘How could you not have known?'

Wren stepped forward. ‘It was my doing, Your Majesty. I created something to suppress her power, so she wouldn't know. So she wouldn't be in danger.'

If this news surprised the queen, she didn't show it. Instead, she turned her attention to Anya. ‘And you…' This time, there was an unmistakeable note of rage in her tone. ‘My husband is dead because of you and your monsters.'

‘Your husband is dead because of Artos and his monsters,' Anya said calmly.

‘Artos?' Queen Reyna gave a dark laugh. ‘You are the enemy. You have brought pain and suffering on the midrealms. You are the Daughter of Darkness.'

Anya took a breath, seeming to steel herself against the harsh words. ‘I am the daughter of King Soren and Queen Brigh of Delmira,' she said. ‘Rulers who were once your allies against all that poisons our lands now.'

‘They were no allies to Aveum. To anyone. Because of their dark obsession with power, the midrealms are cloaked in shadow.'

Thea went to the queen and knelt at her side. ‘Your Majesty,' she implored. ‘You know me, have seen me fight for the good of the midrealms —'

‘You are in league with her.' The queen pointed a shaking finger at Anya. ‘You broke the fallen Warsword out of the Scarlet Tower and destroyed it. You —'

‘All is not what it seems,' Thea said, her spine tingling with the realisation that once it had been Wilder trying to convince her of such things, and that she'd been determined not to believe him. ‘Artos is behind all of this. We have proof.' She stood, motioning for Wren to come forward with the vial of empath magic.

Wren held out the tiny glass bottle. ‘Do you know what this is?'

‘The poison Harenth gifts to Warswords upon their completion of the Great Rite,' Queen Reyna replied. She glanced at Thea and added coldly, ‘I haven't yet decided if I should award you your Aveum springwater.'

‘I passed the Great Rite. I am a Warsword of the midrealms,' Thea replied bluntly. ‘You forsake your own duties by refusing to do so.'

‘Don't speak to me of duty.'

‘I'll speak of whatever is necessary —'

‘I'm glad you mentioned the springwater,' Wren cut in. ‘It was at King Artos' command that your Pools of Purity were contaminated with shadow magic. It was King Artos who allowed that arachne to breach your domes on the night of the eclipse. The night your husband died, Your Majesty.'

‘Surely you know by now that he marches on Aveum with Tver's forces?' Anya said. ‘Your watchmen in the foothills must have reported this.'

Queen Reyna simply stared at them.

Desperation clawed at Thea's chest. The others were counting on them to secure this alliance, to rally the winter kingdom's numbers to their cause. Without Aveum, they wouldn't stand a chance. ‘Artos killed King Elkan. He's the reason your husband is dead. He's the reason you sit before us wearing widow black right now!'

An exhale shuddered out of the queen, and when she looked up, her eyes were lined with tears.

‘Your Majesty,' Thea implored again. ‘You have a choice… Bend the knee to the man responsible for your husband's death, or fight.'

‘Do I look like a fighter to you?' The queen's words were bitter.

‘All women are fighters,' Anya said, small wisps of shadow appearing at her fingertips. ‘Artos made me what I am. When I was just a child, he framed me for the attack on Thezmarr, the one that stoked the flames of the supposed prophecy – a daughter of darkness, a dawn of fire and blood… But it was him. He threw me to the wraiths, and this is what I became.'

Wings materialised at her back, and Queen Reyna's face paled.

‘But I am no monster,' Anya continued. ‘I fight against the evil that is knocking on your door. And you need to take a stand with us, with the rest of the midrealms. Without you, we are lost to the darkness.'

‘Artos has already taken Tver,' Thea added. ‘King Leiko is under his spell. Their forces march on you as we speak.'

‘These matters are for warriors and Guardians of the midrealms.' A tremor laced the words as they left the queen's lips. ‘Is the state of our world not proof enough that the prophecy was right about women wielding blades? You are making it worse.'

‘That's not true,' Thea argued, something coming back to her from long ago. ‘In a book called The Constitution of the Founding Furies, there is a passage that reads: In times of dire need, as declared by the Guild Master, all those capable may take up arms in the name of Thezmarr, as protectors of the midrealms… Are these times not dire? Do the midrealms not need protecting?'

The queen's throat bobbed as she studied them, their desperation clearly etched on their faces. Her own expression grew suddenly distant as she reached into the folds of her robe. Meeting Thea's gaze, Queen Reyna offered her a vial.

‘One of the last to be bottled before the Pools of Purity were contaminated,' the queen told her. ‘I will not fail in my duties, nor break the vows I swore to the guild. There are too many oathbreakers in these realms.'

Thea blinked as the queen pressed the small glass ampoule into her hands.

Aveum springwater.

‘I knew long before now that you would come for it.'

‘You saw that I would become a Warsword?' Thea managed, carefully taking the vial and turning it over, watching the liquid swirl within.

‘I saw many things. Sweeping darkness. An army of monsters. Pain and suffering.' The queen glanced at the scar on Thea's wrist before continuing. ‘But that was not all I have seen.'

‘What else?' Anya pressed. ‘What else have your visions shown you?'

Reyna's eyes flicked to her. ‘Shadow and storms. A reckoning. I have seen that gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten. And I have seen your fates,' she told them. ‘They are tangled. I cannot discern one from the next, only that they meet in a dawn of fire and blood.'

A shiver raked down Thea's spine. She could almost picture the carnage. She felt it in the marrow of her bones – a reckoning was coming, for all of them.

Silently, she pocketed her springwater, her chest tight. The fate of the midrealms did not rest on a single glass vial.

It was Wren who knelt at the queen's side this time, taking Reyna's hand in hers. ‘Your Majesty,' she said softly. ‘Regardless of what the gods have shown you, it is as my sisters say. You have a choice: bend the knee, or fight.'

Slowly, Queen Reyna's eyes slid to Wren, her expression unreadable. ‘I will think on it,' she said.