The Orphan Queen

“Wraithland.” His tone was low. Dry.

 

“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to the wraithland.”

 

Wind gusted through the trees. At the acrid stench that followed, both of us stilled and our eyes met. “Do you hear anything?” His whisper was so soft I almost didn’t hear him.

 

We listened, waiting, but night birds chirped and nocturnal animals skittered through the trees. A wolf howled in the distance. After a few minutes, we relaxed.

 

“Don’t go to the wraithland,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

 

I smirked. “Why, Black Knife. You almost sound worried.”

 

He seized my hands; the leather of his gloves was cool against my skin, and I could hear the faint rasp of his breath as he drew me closer. “Don’t go. Come back to the city with me.”

 

I leaned away. “I must go.” I hesitated, but pushed out the words in pale gasps. “You know what I did to that man. You know what I am.” Since the One-Night War, I’d never said even that much aloud. Even hinting at my ability would draw unwanted attention—like Black Knife’s—and here I was, laying myself bare. “I have to see what’s out there, what it means. Unless . . .”

 

“Unless what?”

 

“Have you been there? Do you know what it’s like?”

 

“Just the stories.” The admission sounded like defeat. “Maybe a few more stories than most, but no firsthand experience.”

 

“What kind of stories?” An owl hooted, filling my pause. “There’s a secret out there.”

 

He raised his eyes to the sky and drew in a breath. “What are you looking for?”

 

Could I trust him? Probably not. He called me dangerous, but he was just as much of a threat. Still . . . “I saw a map, which made it very clear there’s something hidden out there, and I want to know the truth.”

 

“Ah.” There was amusement in his voice. “For someone who lies and steals and impersonates others, you are awfully concerned with the truth.”

 

If only he knew about my other great talents, like forgery. Then he’d be really impressed. “Do you know anything about that location?”

 

He sighed. “Only rumors. What have you heard?”

 

“Oh, I don’t think so, Black Knife. You haven’t said anything to hint that you actually know what I’m talking about.”

 

A small, warm chuckle came from behind the mask, and the black silk shifted with his smile.

 

“I’m so glad my suspicious nature amuses you.”

 

“It’s delightful.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Very well. I will take the risk of revealing what I know, in hopes of convincing you of my trustworthiness.

 

“You saw a map with a location marked ‘confidential’ and ‘debated.’ Further investigation revealed that it was on the northwestern border of Liadia, where there was little more than a village, a lake, and a nobleman’s country home. Now you’ve got a mind to go see this lake for yourself to determine what is actually out there, though I can’t figure out why you care about it so much you’d risk your life and sanity.”

 

He didn’t think very highly of me. “What do you mean I’m risking my sanity?”

 

“There’s a reason why your lake is so debated: few people are willing to make the journey into the wraithland, and even fewer return. Those who do bring such wild and unbelievable stories that most end up in institutions for the mentally unsound.”

 

“Oh.” I swallowed a heavy lump in my throat. “I don’t suppose you have statistics on that.”

 

“The chances aren’t good, Will. What makes you think you can survive the journey?”

 

“Nothing, I suppose. But I must discover the truth.”

 

“It’s not your responsibility.”

 

Nice, coming from someone who didn’t see why I would bother. “Whose is it, then? Yours? The king’s? Any of the other kings who’ve tried and failed in the past?”

 

“It should be a worldwide effort, not just the effort of one girl pretending to be a boy.”

 

“Kings and princes sit over councils and pretend they have a plan, but the truth is, they don’t. And the rest of the world is weary, just waiting for the end.” I hesitated around the dangerous truth. “Liadia broke the Wraith Alliance.”

 

Black Knife stilled. “How do you know that?”

 

“A refugee told me.”

 

“Who?”

 

“I didn’t ask for a name. I didn’t want you to go after anyone, if you found out.”

 

He tilted his head a fraction. “You don’t trust me?”

 

“Of course not. You’re a vigilante. But I’ll tell you the story I heard.” Leaving out identifying details, I repeated what the refugee maid had told me. “If it’s true, and there really is an area unaffected by the wraith, I owe it to the people I care about to find it and determine whether there’s any way to survive when the wraith hits.”

 

“Don’t you owe it to them to stay alive?”

 

I eyed him askance. “Do you have friends, Black Knife? Family? People who care about you? Don’t you owe it to them to stay safe and alive?”

 

His voice was soft, and he dragged one gloved finger down the side of his mask. “It’s for them that I wear this.”

 

“Then you understand. I need to do this because of what I am, and who I have to protect.” A queen who wouldn’t protect her subjects was no queen at all.

 

“Because of your magic. And the children you watch out for.” Heartbeats thudded between us. “If you’re determined to be foolish and brave, at least tell me your plan.”

 

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