The Invasion of the Tearling

Evie! The voice echoed in a corner of her mind, her mother’s voice, always a trifle impatient, always exasperated at what was lacking in her daughter. Evie, where did you get to?

The Queen sat down at her desk. Moving carefully to spare her dislocated shoulder, she opened a drawer and took out a small portrait in a sanded wood frame. The portrait was the only tangible thing left to remind the Queen of her early life, and sometimes she toyed with the idea of throwing it away. But it had been too important to a young and desperate girl, and it had taken on the quality of a talisman; for a brief time, the Queen believed, the portrait had even kept her alive. Whenever she tried to discard it, something always held her back.

The woman in the portrait was not the Queen’s mother, but when the Queen was young, she would have given the world to make it so. The subject was a brunette, heavily pregnant, her skin browned from long hours spent in the sun. This portrait was old; the woman wore clothing too shapeless to be from anything but the Landing era, and a primitive bow was strung across her back. Her face was beautiful, but it was not the easy, careless beauty of any Raleigh queen. This woman had suffered; there were scars on her collarbone and neck, and her face was lined with long-healed pain. But there was no bitterness there. She was laughing, and her eyes radiated kindness. Flowers were woven in her hair. When the Queen was young, she would spend hours staring at this picture, her guts knotted in jealousy … not of the woman, but of the child in her belly. She wished she knew the woman’s name, but even in the Keep gallery, the picture had never been labeled.

Evie! Why do you make me wait?

“Shut up,” the Queen whispered. “You’re dead.”

Thinking of the past was a mistake. She tossed the picture back in the drawer and slammed it shut. If the dark thing had no use for her anymore, then she held no leverage. She could not prohibit fires forever; sooner or later, what had happened today would happen again. And if the girl actually did manage to set the dark thing free somehow, there would be no defense. The last remnants of memory disappeared from her mind, and she turned all of her thoughts to the present. The girl, the girl was the problem, and no matter what the dark thing said, the Queen did not consider the girl an easy mark. She could not offer Elyssa’s bargain, for the girl had refused to send Mortmesne a single slave. For a strange, wistful moment, the Queen wished that she could sit down with the girl, speak to her as an equal. But the jewels made such a friendly discussion impossible. The Queen hesitated for a moment longer, considering, and then pressed the gold button on the wall.

A few moments later Juliette entered the room, her steps hesitant, her eyes pinned to the floor. A smart girl, Julie, not wanting to push her luck. “Majesty?”

“Prepare my luggage for travel,” the Queen told her, turning toward the fireplace. She reached behind her back and grasped her left wrist in her right hand. “At least several weeks’ worth. You will accompany me. We leave tomorrow.”

“For what destination, Majesty?”

The Queen took a deep breath and yanked her left arm backward, snapping her neck and upper torso forward at the same time. The pain was sudden and excruciating, consuming her entire shoulder in fire, and a scream climbed up the back of the Queen’s throat. But she kept her mouth shut tight, and a moment later there was the satisfying crack of the musculature popping back into place. The pain quickly faded, retreating into a dull ache that could easily be cured with drugs.

The Queen turned back to Juliette, her smile pleasant, although her brow was wet with perspiration. Juliette’s expression was horrified, her face drained of color. The Queen took a step forward, just to see what would happen, and had the pleasure of watching Juliette scuttle backward, almost through the doorway.

“Pack for warm climate and some rough living.”

“Where are we going, Majesty?” Juliette quavered. Had the Queen really found her intimidating a few minutes ago? There was nothing to fear, not from one so young.