The Queen's Choice

  Illumina’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t Ivanova for Fae rights? He outlawed hunting. He wouldn’t want Zabriel hurt.”

  “The Governor will not be a physical threat to either of you, but he may nonetheless be an enemy. He doesn’t know he has a grandson, and I fear he would not easily relinquish his progeny if he found out.”

  My cousin processed this information in silence. I was already privy to the knowledge that Zabriel’s birth had been kept secret from his deceased father’s family. He had learned of the decision his mother had made shortly before his departure two years ago, and had confided in me, needing to express his pain and confusion. I suspected her long-concealed action had been added to his list of reasons to leave Chrior.

  “I won’t seek help from the Governor or those who work for him,” Illumina promised. “I can find Zabriel without help from the humans. When shall I leave?”

  “When can you be ready? Time is of the essence.”

  “I’ll report to the Lord of the Law at once.”

  Her purple-and-pink wings aflutter, Illumina ran to the edge of the netting and took the jump to seek out my father. She was in a hurry to claim this most vital of responsibilities, and our aunt was in a hurry to give it to her. I now understood the reason the Queen had immediately notified Cyandro that I was to rule, and anger bubbled inside me. I couldn’t help feeling deceived, manipulated—Ubiqua had not forewarned me of the request she intended to make of her younger niece. With a sense of sisterly protectiveness toward Illumina, I turned to my aunt.

  “What are you doing?” Though my tone could be viewed as inappropriate, I made no attempt to disguise my disapproval.

  The Queen stood, her shimmering dress swishing across the vine floor. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t die with an estranged son.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t be sending Illumina on an errand like this.”

  “Should I instead let her feel useless?”

  “Of course not. There are plenty of arrangements to be made in preparation for a new ruler. Give her something she can handle. Send me after Zabriel if you want him to come back.”

  “Anya, I doubt anyone will succeed in convincing my son to return, so what difference does it make who I send? Illumina’s odds of success are no worse than anyone else’s.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face in exasperation. “I know Zabriel. We were friends before he ran away. He’s far more likely to listen to me, and I’m already familiar with the human world. I would at least have a chance.”

  “So does Illumina. She knows the precautions to take, and she’s of age to go on her Crossing. She’s cleverer than you’re willing to acknowledge. Besides, I believe if I don’t give her a purpose now, she may never be your ally.”

  “That’s a lost cause, Aunt. She’s hated humans all her life. It’s the way your brother raised her.”

  “Don’t bring Enerris into this,” Ubiqua snapped, and I wondered what nerve I had struck. She came forward, standing over me so that her superior height was apparent.

  “Then send me,” I reasserted, not about to be intimidated.

  “I think perhaps you are envious of an opportunity to travel without having to appease Davic over your absence.”

  My eyes narrowed. First she reprimanded me for involving Enerris in our argument, then she dared to suggest a strain in my relationship with Davic. A rush of defensiveness came over me.

  “Fine. Let Illumina go. But if she fails to return, you and no one else will be to blame.”

  I stalked off and leaped from the edge of the vines, twisting and turning my way down to the palm. Floating was a favorite sensation of mine, letting my wings battle the air and seeing what shapes my shadow made while I fell. Today’s shapes were as broken and disjointed as my thoughts, and as convoluted as my loyalties, which were torn between my aunt and my own heart.

  I knew Davic would be waiting, his curiosity piqued, exactly where I’d left him, in the main room of my alcove. But if I stalled a bit longer, he would understand the message—he was good at reading my mind—and return to his own place. I couldn’t yet discuss Ubiqua’s decisions with him, for it was his reaction I dreaded most, perhaps because I suspected he would be happy. And why shouldn’t he be? We would be together in Chrior, we would have a life and a future laid out for us, and it would provide the stability he craved. But until I had come to terms with these changes, I was afraid I would see his happiness and resent him for it.

  Instead of going home, I slipped through the branches of the Great Redwood to land above my father’s dwelling, the nook of the tree where I had grown up, and waited but a few minutes for Illumina to depart with a bounce in her step. She thought she was ready for the outside world, but she was too naive to even make that judgment. And she couldn’t pass unnoticed, not with her scars and her outspoken opinions, not unless she made an effort to disguise her appearance and her character, something she had never been willing to do. Though I made the argument to Davic that the Warckum Territory was safe for Fae, it was really only safe for Fae who could pass for human.

  I fluttered to the stoop once my cousin was out of sight and crossed the threshold without knocking. My father was an Air Fae like Ubiqua, so without my mother, who had been a Fire Fae like Davic and Illumina, he had to light the house manually. This wasn’t difficult for him, but it was dispiriting for the rest of us to watch. In her absence, he was forced to think about things he’d never had to before, and even though the sunken border of fire tracing the alcove walls was bright, the house felt a little colder for that reason.

  My father, his hair graying but his beard dark, was rolling maps at the wooden table in the main room. At my entrance, he looked up with a weary but genuine smile. I vacillated near the doorway. While it was expected that those who traveled in the human world would make a report on their experiences and observations to my father, the task often made me ill at ease. Cyandro was known throughout the Realm for his kindness and fairness, but the sorrow that had entered his eyes upon my mother’s death three years ago had not faded. And my resemblance to her led him to avoid me at times, making me less reliant on him and more independent than most Fae my age.

  “I’m glad you’re home, Anya. I worry when you’re away.”

  He carried his armful of maps to the cupboard where they belonged, hidden from me when I was a child but not so well hidden that he could not enjoy watching me struggle to remove and replace them when I thought he wasn’t near.

  “There’s no need to worry,” I said, compelling myself to step forward. “I’m always careful.”

  “Ah, but that young man of yours.” My father’s voice was tired, as if it had spent too many years talking. “He worries.”

  Having cleared the table, he took a seat and motioned for me to join him. I obliged, perching on the stool across from him.

  “Davic doesn’t worry,” I said with a grin. “He pouts. There’s a big difference.”

  My father wagged his head in amusement. “You may have a point. Still, there’s no denying he has a good heart. There isn’t a young man I would trust more with your life than Davic.”

  “You ought to see him when he’s with his friends. Your opinions might change in a hurry.”

  He laughed. “Regardless, I know him, perhaps better than I know you, my dear.”

  The relaxed atmosphere that had briefly existed between us flitted away, and I looked down at my soft leather boots. As my auburn hair fell forward, I wondered if my father were wishing for a glimpse of the green eyes that were identical to my dead mother’s. The resemblance was painful for him most times; other times he considered it a gift; at present, I only desired to hide my face from him.

  “Anya...” There was a touch of longing in his voice, and I counted the awkward moments that trickled past. Then he cleared his throat. “Illumina is happy
about her assignment. So am I.”

  “Why?” I demanded, irritated with him and Ubiqua for being so eager to see my cousin off.

  “Come, you must know the answer to that. She’s young, but...so are you. I would rather Illumina be at risk than my own daughter.”

  It was a blunt statement, and rather heartless. I hated the sad truth it suggested about Illumina. Had there ever been someone who’d wanted to keep her safe above all others?

  “When will she depart?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “She’s not ready for this, Father. I’m afraid she won’t make it back. And this is an especially bad time to send her. The human world feels more unsettled than usual.”

  “Maybe that’s part of Ubiqua’s plan.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and I squirmed in my chair. “Illumina shows more similarities to her father than anyone wants to admit. You knew Enerris, and have some idea why he was passed over for the throne. And you know what his fate was, in the end.”

  I swallowed with difficulty, wishing Davic was here with his skill for language to interpret these words for me, to find a meaning in them that was less awful than what I imagined. Perhaps Ubiqua was willing to put Illumina in harm’s way out of a belief that when she returned, she would have a better appreciation for humankind. Or maybe my father was implying exactly what I thought he was, and the rarely revealed harsh side of Ubiqua had made a decision for the betterment of her Realm.

  “Now tell me about the human world,” my father invited, fulfilling his duty to gather information from those of us who traveled. He reached for his record book in preparation for taking notes. “What do you mean when you say it’s unsettled?”

  “It’s more a feeling than anything else. But there are certain signs—humans lock their doors earlier at night, and I heard rumors of children going missing. There are also more patrols in and around the outlying towns. I don’t know how to explain it, but the atmosphere in the Territory is tense, more wary.”

  “Perhaps piracy is to blame? The criminal they call Pyrite has been making a name for himself in Sheness. Other Fae who’ve returned tell tales of him and his crew.”

  “I’ve heard nothing of him beyond mutterings in public houses. I’m starting to think he’s just a myth. A story to tell children at night and keep them close to home.”

  “That’s not what Governor Ivanova believes. My ambassadors write that the murder of a government employee has been credited to Pyrite, which suggests that the influence of piracy on the coast has started to move east. I don’t like what that could mean for Fae in the Territory. Right now there are a number of our people who are late in returning from their journeys.”

  His brow furrowed, my father scratched a few notes in his book with his quill. “I’ll bring your observations to the attention of the Council. There are precautions we can take. Perhaps Crossings should be temporarily postponed.”

  At last he returned to the problem before him—me.

  “Be all of that as it may, Anya, the atmosphere you’re describing provides more than enough reason for you to stay here. You’re the Queen’s chosen heir, and that means your safety is more important than Illumina’s. But I won’t pretend I’m upset about that.”

  It was clear I would not sway my father on the issue of my cousin any more than I had Ubiqua, so I took my leave, the thought of Illumina navigating the human world on her own weighing on my mind. Equally disturbing, Ubiqua’s actions seemed to contradict her assurances to both Illumina and me that she had much time to live.

  Instead of returning home, I spent a restless, thoughtful day wandering the city, seeing it in a new light. Most of the Faerie population lived in the sprawling city of Chrior, although our Realm included a large section of the Balsam Forest, where we hunted and kept a few animals; gathered berries, nuts, and medicinal plants; laid to rest our dead; and held celebrations. The idea that I would be expected to rule these people and this land was paralyzing. I tried to convince myself that it wouldn’t be so difficult to adjust to the responsibility of being Queen, that I could embrace the new lifestyle that role would entail. But I couldn’t shake the portent of trouble that gripped my heart, the same portent that gripped me when I thought of Illumina. Neither of us was ready to undertake the tasks the Queen had set before us.

  When darkness fell, I went to visit my cousin, needing to see for myself that she was packed and ready. Though the hour was late, she was not asleep. How could she be with such a daunting mission resting upon her shoulders? Instead, she was going through the scant things she intended to take with her—she would have been told not to carry much—and checking her weapons. The travel satchel beside her was imprinted with the royal seal, and was identical to mine, for they had been gifts from Queen Ubiqua.

  “I expected you eventually,” she said, looking up from her seat in the corner, where the heating furrow that ran along the walls created an especially cozy space. “I know you’re not happy with Aunt for giving me this charge.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” I pulled up a deadwood stool of my own and sat opposite her.

  “I thought it might be that you don’t want Zabriel to come home.”

  My eyebrows drew close, narrowing Illumina’s view of my eyes. “Why would that be?”

  She shrugged, running a polishing rag over her long-knife. “Well, once he’s here, he’s the rightful heir to the throne, isn’t he?”

  This hadn’t occurred to me. Zabriel seemed so distant lately, more of a dream than a person, that I hadn’t really contemplated his claim to the Laura. I shook my head, dismissing the thought before it had the chance to morph into a hope.

  “Zabriel doesn’t want to be King of this place. His actions have more than established that. He has a wanderer’s spirit, not a politician’s. Aunt says he takes after his father in that way.”

  “That human Aunt married. That’s what she gets for involving herself with them.”

  My gaze darkened. “Just so you know, not only did Aunt love William Ivanova, it broke her heart when Zabriel left. She tried to make him feel connected to our Realm, to see that he belonged here, but Fae like you drove him away. Watch what you say, for Nature’s sake, Illumina.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered, adding a few medical supplies to her pack.

  I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, releasing my irritation.

  “Anyway, I came because I wanted to see if you had any questions, any concerns. It’s your first time in the human world. Things are going to be different from the way they are here.”

  Illumina smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Anya. I can always trust you to look out for me, can’t I? But no, I prefer to learn from experience.”

  I bowed my head, no longer in the mood for conversation. If she didn’t want my help, I couldn’t very well give it to her.

  “Then I’ll merely wish you luck.” Vaguely dissatisfied, I stood and moved toward the door. “Don’t forget to bring Sale with you, but keep it well hidden. It’s illegal to have in the Territory. And watch for hunters. The human world can be dark for Fae.”

  “I’m not naive, Anya. My father schooled me better than you know.”

  I ignored my cousin’s comment and departed, stepping onto the branches of the Great Redwood and into the freezing air. But the chills that assailed me weren’t only related to the temperature—whether with purpose or not, Illumina had mentioned something I had ignored, and that was Zabriel’s right to his inheritance. He was the Prince. And prior to his exodus two years ago, he had been a good one, a compassionate young man who had been born with wings but no elemental connection. After struggling for fifteen years, he’d decided he belonged in the human world, put up his shroud and run away, across a Road that had been cursed by the Fae to end the war and separate the races; a Road that might have killed him because of his paternity.

 
If he could be persuaded to come back, he would make a better ruler than I would. He would be a better bridge to the humans since he shared blood with them. He would not feel like a usurper, like the Laura didn’t belong to him. The line of descent said he should be given the option of claiming the throne.

  Illumina might not want to give it to him. I trembled at the conviction I felt—she could calmly reconcile herself to my ascendance to the throne, but it would be another thing for her to see the Faerie Realm under Zabriel’s authority. He was an outrage in Illumina’s eyes, his right to rule illegitimized by his human heritage. Sending her after Zabriel was a bigger mistake than even I had appreciated, for if she found him, she would not want to bring him home and risk that he might take back what was rightfully his.

  * * *

  My cousin left without fanfare the following morning; I only knew she was gone because she was absent from the Queen’s Court as we went about our business.

  The day marked the official start of winter, and in anticipation of the approaching solstice, there were festivities throughout Chrior. Ubiqua’s Court toured the sights, I beside Davic, clutching his hand for warmth. It was hard to feel frightened about the future when I was with him; the challenges of the world seemed far away. Up ahead walked my father, his wizened wings deep blue and glimmering in the sun, while the younger members of the Court surrounded my promised and me. Davic’s friends laughed and jostled him, while I exchanged amused glances with my soft-spoken best friend, Ione. She was stunningly beautiful, but lacked confidence—she assumed the worst of people’s stares when in truth they merely could not look away.

  “Where is Evangeline?” I asked, referring to our mutual friend who had for years lived with Ione’s family. Evangeline’s home life was unhappy at best, her parents among those who made me thankful for my father’s kindliness.

  “She hasn’t returned from her Crossing yet,” Ione revealed, tying her long blond curls around her neck like a scarf. “I thought she’d be back around the time you left on your trip.”