The Queen Underneath

She shook her head, then wiped her face on her sleeve. “Almost nothing, really.”

He met her gaze and said, “Of the female population of Vaga, only one in ten thousand women is a mage, and there has never been a man who can do the work. It is a mystery as old as the goddess herself, but only a few very honored women are capable of being trained. The marks are the written word of Aegos herself, and very few are gifted with the ability to imbue their marks with the goddess’s power. Those who are gifted are celebrated and respected throughout Vaga—they are our priestesses and our queens. The more mage work that a woman does, the longer her life span. Those who are most gifted have been known to live for five hundred years, but if a woman stops working magic or if she does very little, she begins to age more quickly.”

Gemma opened her mouth, then closed it again as she thought of the king’s mage women, who were kept like chattel and only allowed to do mage work at the king’s bidding.

“You see it, now, don’t you? The Kings of Above have slowly been killing them.” He sighed, and though she wanted to look away, the desperation in his eyes held her gaze. “My mother is the youngest daughter and sister of the mage women kept in the palace. The other three are Brinna’s elder sisters; Jaree, Manil, and Valone. My mother was very young when the Mage War broke out, and Hannai, her mother, would not let her come to Yigris to fight.

“Hannai was a lesser Queen of Vaga, third in command, but she had gained a great deal of support during the war against Yigris. The greater queen felt threatened by her popularity, so at the signing of the peace accords, she signed away the lives of Hannai and her daughters in exchange for a greater share of Yigris’s gold mines. She caught two fish with one hook by crippling Yigris economically and ridding herself of her closest competition.”

Gemma chuckled bitterly. “And people think that we’re criminals.”

He watched her in silence for a moment. “Brinna was only thirteen when the greater queen signed away her family, and the greater queen thought she could be controlled. My mother played her part, but in her heart she vowed she would do whatever she needed to get her family back. First, she poisoned the greater queen’s tea. Then, my mother spent a lifetime training herself, honing her skills and learning even the most obscure mage marks. She became one of the greatest mage women in Vaga. She took a lover, and when I was born, she took another—until a daughter was born.”

Gemma remembered the strange look on Devery’s face the night before, when she had mentioned Iven’s wife. Another piece of the puzzle slipped into place. “Princess Elsha,” Gemma’s voice was thick.

Devery nodded. “My mother has spent her entire life trying to rescue her family, and this is the reason that I was born. For most of my life, I had no reason not to go along with her demands, and then suddenly, I had every reason in the world to. When Brinna realized how much I cared for you and Elam, she gained a hold over me. I would do anything to keep the two of you safe, even if I had to murder everyone in this city.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “I’d have helped you free them all.”

Tears filled his eyes, and he couldn’t look at her. “It isn’t enough anymore for my mother that the mages be freed, Gem. House Daghan has to fall. And … I knew you’d never turn against Melnora. I didn’t have a choice.” As the tears streaked down his face he said, “You don’t understand my family.”

“I thought we were your family.” She hated the weakness in her voice. She hated the way she’d let him hurt her. “And your daughter? I heard her voice. She can’t be more than eight or nine. How could you lie to me like that?”

He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, they were wet. “I didn’t …” He sighed, running his hand across the top of his head. “I didn’t know about her. Not at first, and then … by the time I found out the truth, it was too late to introduce you to Katya as my daughter.”

A sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh escaped her lips. Katya had been hers. She had worked hard to earn her trust, to get close to her. Now he was taking away the child whose hair she’d braided, whose wounds she’d stitched, the strange, somber child whom she had seen so much of herself in … the little girl whom Gemma saw as her heir. Gemma’s heart twisted within her. She should have seen the truth. It was her job to see the truth.

She flopped back onto the bed, tears flowing unhindered. “How many other children do you have running around that I don’t know about?”

“It isn’t like that,” he said. He was still kneeling in the center of the room, but there was more heat in his words. “I wish I could have told you, all those years ago, but … I was half a man for such a long time. My wife had died, and I thought the child she carried had died with her. I’d come to Yigris to run away from it all and avenge my family, to become the killer I’d been born to be. I closed off my heart for so long that I didn’t even know how to tell the truth anymore. I hated myself, I hated what I’d become, I hated this city and its people and its prickling king, and all of this would have been as simple as breathing if I hadn’t fallen in love with you. Because everything got complicated then. And at the same time, everything got much, much simpler.”

The truth had blown a hole in her chest, but rage filled it back up. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know this isn’t just another lie to make me … to get me to …” She couldn’t even imagine what else he could want from her. He’d already taken everything. She wanted to hurt him worse than he’d hurt her, but she couldn’t think clearly. She couldn’t see past the storm swelling within her. She knew there were questions she should be asking him. About his wife and child, and other things, but she just couldn’t do it.

He pulled the collar of his shirt down, baring his throat, and tipped his head to the side. “I submit to your judgement.”

Something in his voice—utter resignation—made her believe. Brinna had used him, had created him and toyed with him, had broken him until he fit the mold she wanted him to fill. The fact that anyone could do that to their own child filled Gemma with black rage. She covered her belly protectively. The fact that anyone could do that to Devery twisted her in knots. She wanted to hate him, for Fin and Melnora and everything, but she found that she couldn’t. She sighed and patted the bed beside her.

He sat down. The smell of him overwhelmed her and tears fell anew. She leaned into his chest and sobbed until her eyes ran dry, knowing now, for the first time, that her time with him might be less than infinite.

Time passed without either of them speaking. A soft knock on the door jarred her from her daze. Devery stood, moved across the room, and opened the door. “I asked the cook to put together some breakfast for you,” he said softly, returning with the tray that the maid had brought. “It’s been too long since you’ve eaten.” He set the tray on the bed in front of her and waited. When she made no move to eat, he touched her hand hesitantly. His fingers drew a pattern across her knuckles. It had the distinctive shape of a mage mark.

“What was that?” she asked, yanking her hand away.

“I don’t possess any magery, Gemma. I … it was the Vagan word for love. I love you, Gem. Please, at least a bite of bread and some tea.”

If he’d only told her about the mage women, she’d have sneaked him into the palace herself. No one in Under held with keeping someone against their will. Sure—if you crossed someone in Under, they’d gut you like a fish—but they’d never hold you prisoner. Slavery, torture and rape were weapons of the Above. Why hadn’t he known her well enough to know that he could trust her?

Stacey Filak's books