The Impostor Queen

  “I am, Elli,” she replies in a strained voice. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared!” I shriek, so abruptly that she stumbles back. “How dare you suggest that? Your doubt is probably weighing heavy on her, right when she most needs her strength!” My voice breaks over the rocks of my rage. I can’t get the sight of the Valtia’s bandaged arms out of my head.

  Mim’s eyes are round as dinner plates. “S-s-aadella,” she stammers, “I’m so sorry.”

  The shock on her face brings me so much shame that it burns. Tears start in my eyes and overflow in a mere second. “Apologies,” I whisper. “Please continue.”

  She approaches me as if I’m a wounded bear, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. But I hold everything inside as she finishes cleaning my chest and neck and face. She gingerly removes my copper circlet, then draws my arms through my nightgown and pulls it down over my head. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “I’ll be eating with the Valtia when she returns.” I take a step backward. “Until then, I’ll be on my balcony.” I whirl around, and she races ahead of me to pull the heavy wooden doors open. I stride through them. “Please don’t disturb me.”

  Her only reply is the sound of the doors closing behind me. Reeling with the loss of the cheers, the thrill of the day, and my precious, rare time at the queen’s side, I move to the railing. In the distance, the tiny silhouettes of three sailing vessels float away from our peninsula and into the open water of the Motherlake. The sun draws its yellow tongue along the surface of the waves, rendering them golden and sparkling. It’s slowly sinking into the west, casting the boats’ shadows long as they cut through the lake, moving north. The oars move steadily and in perfect synchrony. The sailors know they carry the queen, and they know what’s at stake.

  I stare at the northern horizon. Somewhere beyond it lies the seat of the Soturi empire. They’re coming for us, planning to take us over right at the harvest, just before the winter descends. No other people has dared to test us before, but these barbarians are different, descending from the far north and spreading southward like a plague. Until now, they have been satisfied with small-scale raids, killing and looting, burning what they can’t steal. It happens at least a dozen times each year at various spots along the coast, and each year there are a few more than the last. But this summer they took the entire city-state of Vasterut, and now they’ve set their sights on Kupari. What has changed?

  At the point where lake meets sky, the water has turned dark and spiny. My breath catches in my throat—it’s the masts of the Soturi longships. There are so many of them that they seem to take up half the Motherlake.

  I grip the stone railing and lean forward. “Your boots will never touch our shores,” I say, my voice dripping with menace.

  Because I can see it now, the swirl of clouds over the Motherlake. And I know what my Valtia is going to do.

  “Would you like me to make you a storm?” she asked as we ate roasted sweet potatoes and parsnips in her chambers, lounging and relaxed after a long harvest ceremony.

  “Inside?” I asked. “How is that possible?”

  Her eyes flashed with mischief. She rose from her pillows, her cream-colored gown flowing around her body as she moved to the carved stone bathing pool in the corner of her chamber. I followed, fascinated by the flex of her fingers, by the power I could already feel in the air. She gazed down upon the smooth surface of the water. “It’s not that hard. Watch.”

  She flattened her left palm high over the water and moved it in a slow circle. “Cold air up here,” she told me. Then she scooped her right hand into the water and raised it slowly, turning it to steam before it could drip from her fingers. “And lots of warm, wet air down here.”

  I stared in awe as she kept moving both her hands in those unhurried rotations, as the air began to swirl and crackle. And then, clouds of vapor burst from nothing. She grinned when my mouth dropped open.

  As the first droplets of rain hit the surface of the bathing pool, I started to giggle. “Amazing!”

  She winked at me as she contained the tiny storm, as she made it hail and rain. And then she made all of it vanish in an instant. I laughed with delight. “Did one of the elders teach you that? I wish they’d teach me about magic. I’m so tired of reading about agriculture and constellations and the life cycle of a cow and—”

  “They want you to understand our world before you wield magic that can change it.” She looked down at the water dripping from her fingers. “And as for your first question, no. They didn’t teach me that trick. My Valtia did,” she said quietly, drying her hands on a cloth. “And someday, maybe you’ll show it to your Saadella.”

  “Assuming I’m ever that good,” I said, unable to contain my awe of her—and my own uncertainty.

  She nudged my chin up. “When you are the Valtia, you’ll be better than good, Elli. You may doubt anything in this world, but never doubt yourself.”

  My eyes fix on the churning clouds as they roll chaotically in the sky, spreading outward. A distant crack of thunder splits the quiet. “Never doubt,” I whisper.

  As the storm takes shape, the three boats disappear into the darkness like they’re passing through a veil. The sky roils, turning purplish green as lightning flashes down in jagged, bright blades. I picture the bolts stabbing the Soturi longships, breaking them in half, sending barbarians tumbling into the waiting mouth of the Motherlake.

  May she grind their bones in her watery jaws.

  I cheer when I feel drops of rain on my face. The storm is so massive that its edges lick at our city, spitting pellets of ice. I can only imagine what it’s doing to the barbarians. I wish I could see what’s happening, especially when the first waterspout erupts, rising so high that it kisses the raging, swirling thunderclouds. It goes on and on, the wind becoming an animal roar in my ears.

  There’s a crash behind me, and Mim grabs my shoulders. “Come inside!” she shouts over the gale.

  I tear myself away from her. “Not a chance.” My voice is full of laughter. “Look, Mim! How could anyone be scared when their queen can do that?”

  She wraps her arms around my waist like she’s afraid I’ll be blown away. Tendrils of my hair, torn loose from my braids by the fierce wind, tangle with her brown curls. Her cheek presses to mine. “No one should ever doubt the power of the Valtia,” she says in my ear. “I’m sorry that my fear got the best of me. Forgive me?”

  “Always,” I say, turning my head and kissing her rain-speckled cheek. I’ve never been this happy, this full of ferocious, throbbing certainty. “Someday, Mim, that will be me.”

  She squeezes me tightly. “Someday it will be you. And I’ll be so proud to be your handmaiden.”

  My hands fold over hers, holding them against my body. I wish I had fire magic to warm her, but even as I think it, I feel my temperature rising, along with a delicious tingling along my skin. She starts to pull away, but I tighten my grip. “No,” I whisper. “Stay right here.”

  “But Elli—”

  “Please. Don’t move.” It feels so good. My blood is pounding in my ears, and Mim’s arms are perfect right where they are.

  She obeys me. She must, because she is my handmaiden, and suddenly a tiny part of me feels guilty, because I’m not sure if she likes it quite as much as I do. I stare at the storm, wanting things I cannot have. That I should not have. I clear my throat and let go of her hands. She squeezes me and pulls away, but stays next to me, watching the massive swells, the blinding flashes of light, the billowing clouds.

  After an hour or so, the storm quiets abruptly, folding in on itself like a scroll. I squint into the distance, but all that lies in front of me is foggy darkness.

  “The Soturi must be at the bottom of our Motherlake,” says Mim. “Now will you come inside?” When I shake my head, she gives me an exasperated smile and puts her hands on her round hips, and I am relieved that she seems to have forgiven me for wanting to be too clos
e to her. “Don’t you want to wash up before she comes back—or do you prefer to greet her looking like a drowned ferret?”

  “In no way do I resemble a ferret.” I giggle as I swipe my hands across my wet cheeks. As much as I’d like to stand here and wait for the Valtia’s boat to come sailing into port, I spend the next hour inside, reliving the storm, my chest buzzing and thrumming while Mim dries my skin and changes my clothes, draping me in a flowing gown of soft red wool. She undoes all my braids, brushes my hair, and plaits it once more. She lays her palms on my cheeks when she’s finished. “Now you look like a princess.”

  Fresh and clean, I go back out to the balcony. Sure enough, guttering torches moving across the water mark three ships returning to our docks. I bounce on my toes. “Mim, are they preparing our meal? I want it to be ready when she reaches us. She’ll probably be starving.”

  “I’ll go check,” she says, and leaves me alone to watch the sailing vessels glide into the harbor.

  I pace my balcony. I can’t wait to ask my Valtia what it was like, if she actually saw the Soturi being tossed by her storm, if the sailors around her were frightened or steadfast as she made the gale rage around them. Those are but a few of the questions I have for her.

  Somewhere out in the city, a horn sounds. Its eerie call steadily grows louder as the minutes pass. Finally, just as I’m wondering when Mim will return, she bursts through the doorway.

  Her face is pasty pale, like she’s painted her own skin with white lead. “Your sedan chair is being brought now,” she says, her voice quavering.

  I frown as I step forward. “What’s wrong?” Alarm clangs in my head, louder than that stupid horn, which is still blaring. “Did some of the Soturi ships make it through?”

  She shakes her head. Her mouth twists into the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “No, Saadella. By all accounts, the Valtia dealt them a devastating defeat.”

  I sag with relief. “Then why the long face? Were some of the sailors hurt?”

  She comes forward and takes me by the arms. “Elli,” she whispers. “You have to come now. You’ve been summoned.”

  “Of course,” I say.

  “By the elders,” she adds.

  I pause, the oddest feeling stirring inside me, like a beast awakening from its winter sleep. “Mim.” It comes out in a snap, and my handmaiden flinches. “Where’s the Valtia?”

  “She’s being brought to her quarters now.” Mim pulls me into an embrace, close enough to feel her shudder. “But they’re saying she won’t live out the night.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I push Mim away. The ringing in my ears is so loud that I can’t hear her voice anymore. I blunder toward the door of my chamber, my only thought to reach my Valtia, begging the stars that when I do, this will all turn out to be a mistake. She’ll greet me with affection and we’ll have our meal and she’ll tell me how she sent the Soturi to their graves in the deep.

  Mim loops her arm around my waist as I reach the corridor. “Slow down, Elli. Your chair’s coming.”

  A waste of time. “No.”

  “Please. Prepare yourself for what’s about to happen.”

  With her hanging on to me, I stride down my corridor toward the domed chamber. It’s like wading through deep water as Mim tries to hold me back. Prepare yourself.

  But I can’t bear the thought of losing my Valtia, so I can’t bear to think of preparing for it.

  When I’m about halfway, Elder Leevi comes toward us from the domed chamber, his apprentice trailing behind him carrying a lantern that throws distorted shadows against the stone walls. “She’s in her quarters,” he says to us. “You will be taken to the catacombs, the Stone Chamber, to wait for—”

  “No.” I slap at Mim’s clutching hands and quicken my pace as soon as she lets me go. “I will see her now.”

  Leevi blinks at Mim and then at me. “My Saadella, that is not how we do this.”

  “I need to see her.” My voice echoes off the walls. “I’m not going anywhere else.”

  Leevi scowls at Mim, as if she’s responsible for my behavior. “Very well,” he finally says. “Handmaiden, pack her things.”

  Mim’s eyes are red-rimmed and her face is pinched. “Yes, Elder,” she says hoarsely. “I’ll have them ready to be moved in a few hours.”

  I gape at him. He’s already planning for me to move into the Valtia’s chambers, and she’s still alive. Disgust burns in my throat as he takes my arm and leads me forward.

  “Who’s with her now?” I ask when we reach the main chamber, its copper dome arching above us, dark and ominous as the candles gutter around the edge of the room.

  “Elder Kauko is attending to her body, but—”

  “Her body.” It comes out as a squeak.

  He purses his lips. “He’s trying to make her comfortable. If you insist on being there, it’s best if you wait in the antechamber.”

  It feels like there’s a stone on my chest. Each breath is an effort. “I won’t wait outside, Elder. I need to see her.” This time, my voice is loud and sure. I’m not a little girl. And though I’ve been taught the value of obedience, my Valtia’s voice in my head also reminds me that I’m the someday queen. And if Kauko’s right, I’ll be more powerful than any before me. I’d best start owning it now.

  Elder Leevi bows his head. “As you wish.”

  I enter the corridor where her quarters are located. A few acolytes and maidservants are milling about, their faces ashen. Some of them are crying. Helka’s down the hall, weeping loudly. I grit my teeth. They’re grieving for a queen who still lives. I walk past them without acknowledging them, striding into her antechamber, which is paneled with carved wood. The hammered copper ceiling looks like it’s on fire as we pass beneath with the lantern. Leevi tells his apprentice to wait while we enter, and I’m grateful. The Valtia doesn’t need prying eyes right now. She needs me, her Saadella.

  Leevi gently grips my shoulder. “Elli, please prepare yourself—”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” I lurch away from him and barrel into her bedchamber.

  The room is lit with a few candles. Aleksi stands at the foot of her bed, still as a statue. The door to the balcony is wide open, the drapes fluttering with the breeze from the Motherlake. Goose bumps ride across my skin, but a moment later a gust of heat washes over me, raising beads of sweat. I walk slowly toward the Valtia’s bed as Elder Leevi strides ahead of me to alert Elder Kauko, who is hunched over it, his back to me.

  Elder Kauko looks over his shoulder and frowns. “You should be in the Stone Chamber. You don’t want to see this, my Saadella.”

  “Don’t tell me what I want.”

  His brows rise in surprise at my defiant tone, but then he gives me a sorrowful, apologetic smile. “I shouldn’t have presumed.” He bows and moves aside.

  My stomach clenches. The Valtia writhes on her bed, her naked body covered in a thin, gauzy sheet. All her adornments have been removed—her crown, her dress, the cuff of Astia—probably taken back to the catacombs. Blood-dotted bandages cling to the crook of each arm. Her white face paint has washed or chipped away, revealing only horror beneath. My heart crumbles as I hear the pained hiss of her breaths. Her beautiful face is marred by black and red patches of blistered skin, but as I move closer, mounting the steps up to the platform where her mattress sits, I see that other parts of her are gray-blue and fissured. Bloodless and frozen. Two of the fingers of her left hand have cracked and fallen away. They lie like chipped stones in the folds of the sheets, ice crystals melting and leaving a wet pink stain. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her head thrown back as agony consumes her.

  “My Valtia,” I whisper, my bottom lip trembling.

  As soon as she hears my voice, her eyes open. Once a majestic icy blue, now they’re crimson. “Elli,” she wheezes. “I’m sorry.” A blood-tinged tear slides down her cheek.

  As I reach for her right hand, Kauko strokes my arm. “You must be careful, Saadella. Her touch could burn
or freeze you in a moment. She can’t control it now.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I say, a sob choking off my words. She needs to be touched and to know she isn’t alone. I kneel at her bedside and caress her fingers. They’re stiff, covered in a layer of ice, but when she feels my palm on hers, the cold melts away. “You did it, didn’t you?” I say. “You sent them to the bottom of the Motherlake.”

  “I did it too well.” She moans from between gritted teeth. “All it took was a moment of distraction to lose the balance.”

  Something Kauko had been trying to prevent. Ice and fire are unpredictable, especially when they collide. A little too much of one or the other and things must have spiraled. “And yet you contained the storm. If you hadn’t, all our ships wouldn’t have returned.”

  She looks up at me. “A Valtia protects her people. That is your first duty. Remember.”

  I will my tears away, but they’re stubborn. “Please stay, Valtia. Don’t go.”

  It is the prayer of a child, not a woman. My head is full of memories, of the first time I was carried into her presence, of the kindness in her eyes as she took me into her arms. I was so scared, but as soon as I felt her warmth, the fear melted. You are precious, she said. Your home is with me now. Her eyes had been filled with tender sadness, but also with love.

  “I belong with you,” I whisper. “You told me that, my Valtia.”

  “Sofia,” she says as ice crystals prick my palm. For a moment it’s so cold around us that I can see our breaths, but it fades quickly. “That’s the name I had before.”

  A name she shed the day she became the Valtia. That she’s reclaiming it now is a knife in my heart. But her eyes are pleading, and I cannot deny her. “Sofia.”

  “You’re ready, darling,” she rasps. “You’re going to be the strongest Valtia there ever was. The stars have foretold all of it. The world has never seen such power.”