The Cursed Queen (The Impostor Queen #2)

I step back from her, my mouth open to tell her about the andeners, but then I realize—the andeners always stayed in camp when we raided, waiting for us to return. But this, another invasion . . . “Vasterutians?”


She nods. “Able-bodied men and women whose backs can bear the load, whose legs can carry them far away, into the land of magic and treachery. Me included, and who cares about what happens to my baby boy? He’s just a Vasterutian, after all.” She lunges forward, so quickly that I fall back onto my bed with her standing over me. “Think I’m going to let that happen? Think I won’t fight?” She grimaces and steps back. “Think I won’t die?” she adds softly. “Think you won’t have killed me, just because you didn’t speak out against me? Thank you, then.”

I edge to the end of the bed and stand up. “Stop it. We don’t . . . we don’t even know what’s going to happen yet.”

She stares at me for a long moment, then laughs and shakes her head. “Right. Well, then.” She gestures to the hallway as the sound of footsteps reaches us. “I am eager to find out.”

Still reeling with her sudden brashness, I step into the hallway, relieved at the familiar sight of warriors, even ones who look at me with suspicion. Sander gives me a tight, barely perceptible nod as he steps behind me. Carina, on the other hand, keeps her fingers wrapped tightly around her sheathed dagger as she walks beside me. It’s a tense journey up to the top of the tower. I’m dying to ask Sander if there’s word of Thyra, or Preben and Bertel and the warriors who hold the eastern part of the city, but I know it’s not safe here.

When we reach Nisse’s council chamber, the guard steps back and lets me walk in alone. Nisse and Jaspar look up from the painted table as I enter. Nisse smiles. “Our rider returned from Kupari this morning. Their city looks worse than ours, apparently. Not the wealthy stronghold we expected.”

“Does that mean there is no witch queen in the temple?”

Jaspar shrugs. “Apparently there is, but they delayed her coronation.”

“Why?”

“Their politics are a mystery,” Nisse says, a smile pulling at his mouth. “But perhaps we can still uncover the truth. They have invited us to witness her ascension to the throne.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “So will you invade or not?” I hate the thoughts I’m having, of Halina and the other Vasterutians being taken away from their children, just to supply our force.

“I haven’t decided,” says Nisse. “But I think, in this case, I will follow the path my dear niece is always urging. We’ll be cautious.”

My eyebrows rise. “So you won’t invade?”

“Not immediately.” His green eyes are full of eagerness. “So—what do you say?”

“To what?”

“Will you come with us?” Nisse asks. “You could be our hidden weapon.”

“But you said you weren’t invading.”

“Not yet, but if you were to come with us, perhaps you could . . .” He waves his hand toward me. “We’ll be very close to the queen. She won’t expect magic to come from one of our own. If she is just being crowned, it is likely she is new and young and inexperienced.”

“You want me to assassinate her. With magic.”

He smiles. “It would clear the way for our warriors and save many lives. It would make them all indebted to you. No one would remember what happened in the fight circle.”

“And it would be your chance for vengeance,” says Jaspar. “Perhaps not on the queen who cursed you, but certainly on her heir.”

I turn toward the fire, thinking of my fantasies ever since that horrible day on the lake, of striding into the witch’s throne room and ramming fire down her white throat. Heat courses down my arms, a powerful rush of cursed magic. But the pain follows hard on its heels, raising new blisters that burst and weep. I cry out, tears starting in my eyes. “Something has gone wrong with me,” I say between gasping breaths. “The curse has turned against me. It’s killing me.”

“What?” Nisse asks in a hard voice. “I saw you in the fight circle. You had complete control of it.”

I shake my head. “I think it controlled me.”

“I don’t believe that,” says Jaspar. “Ansa, you knew what you were doing. The elements obeyed every wave of your fingers.”

“My head, then. It’s . . .”

Nisse’s fists clench. “Thyra hit her so hard that it damaged her ability to wield the magic.”

“I’m not blaming her,” I say, not even sure why I’m defending her, only that I cannot help fearing for her when I hear the blade of his voice. “I’m sorry. I know I’m disappointing you. If I had a little more time to recover . . .” I don’t want him to punish her for this. But also—if I don’t figure out how to control this magic inside me, I’ll never have a place within the tribe again.

Nisse lets out a long breath. “Of course. You must stay here and continue your recovery. We must get you strong so that you can be the fearsome force of vengeance we saw only a month ago!”