“I’ve already sent a list of the Indigo Kingdom dead I know,” he told me. “We’ll have a more complete list once the dead are moved and on a wagon home.”
“All right.” For a moment, I wasn’t sure why he was telling me that, but then I realized it was because I should have someone do the same thing for the Aecorians. See to the dead. Ensure the families were told. Figure out how to transport the bodies.
All things queens should remember to do on their own.
“In addition to my account of what happened tonight, Tobiah would like to hear it from you. He’d also like to know your plans for the prisoners in Aecor City and whether you plan to free them. What you intend to do with Prince Colin now. And the wraith boy . . . Well, you’ll see the questions. I circled the ones you need to answer.” James offered the pen to me.
“Thank you.” So much for catching up with Melanie tonight, let alone getting any rest. Once James left, I dipped my pen into the ink and wrote.
Hello, Tobiah. It probably won’t help to know that I didn’t intend any of this. . . .
TWENTY-SEVEN
IN THE MORNING, I visited the wraith boy as promised, and then announced to James that we would be riding across the bridge.
“It’s warm out,” I said. A lie. The winter air was just as cold as it had been last night, but the sky was clear and bright.
And I was coming home a queen.
“Fine.” The groggy cant of his voice indicated he’d slept as little as I had. “As long as you know I think it’s unwise.”
“Your protest is noted.”
Ferguson was saddled for me—apparently queens didn’t saddle their own horses—and I climbed atop, the Ospreys and James flanking me.
Night wind had swept clean Snowhaven Bridge, leaving patches of white in the frothing gray water below. As the first wagons rumbled onto the bridge ahead of us, horse hooves rang and gulls cried long and loud. The birds perched atop the passageway, and all along the bridge on posts. A few dove toward the convoy, looking for food.
Finally, we passed between the guard stations and stepped onto Snowhaven Bridge. For the first time since the war, I was off Indigo Kingdom land.
“Are you all right?” Melanie rode next to me, her eyebrows pushed together. Ronald and Oscar rode behind us, while James rode behind them; there wasn’t enough room for all of us to ride abreast.
“My chest hurts.” I glanced at Melanie. “My heart is pounding so hard.”
Her look of concern melted into a smile. “I know. Mine did, too, when we crossed to Northland. It still does. We’re going home, Wilhelmina.”
I lifted my face toward the rising sun as the sea wind whipped around me. Home. At last.
“Don’t get too eager,” Oscar said. “It will take all day to cross the bay.”
“All day?” I looked at him aghast. “I don’t remember Snowhaven Bridge being so long.” The only thing I could see ahead was the smooth line of stone and steel, a scattering of islands, and water all around. Patches of ice still glimmered on the bridge, evident where riders ahead slowed and directed their mounts around.
“All day,” Melanie said.
“What I wonder,” Ronald mused, “is how this thing was even built. It’s amazing the ocean hasn’t eaten it away by now.”
“This water isn’t as salty as the real ocean,” I said. “The rivers that feed the bay are all fresh.”
“Flashers built the bridge.” Melanie glanced back. “Centuries ago, flashers—radiants, then—raised the support islands from the bottom of the bay. They struck the towers into the seabed, and caused the steel frame to snake across the span of the water. They made the stone unfurl, and the cables hold fast. This bridge has stood through hurricanes, battles, and things you and I can’t even dream of. And it will stand for centuries more.”
I lifted an eyebrow at Melanie. “Did you read a book about the bridge?”
She laughed and ducked her head. “Yes. The library in Sandcliff Castle has several. Snowhaven Bridge: a Modern Wonder of Aecor is the best, in case you were wondering. It was written four hundred years ago, so very modern indeed.”
My heart warmed. Even during the chaos of war, Melanie had managed to sneak moments with books. That, I hoped, would never change.
“Seems incredible, given all the advantages flashers have offered, that the world turned against them.” Oscar nodded toward me. “You, I hear.”
“You’ve seen the wraith boy. You know about the wraithland.” I clenched my jaw. “I hate what happened to flashers as much as anyone else, but I understand why the world reacted like that. It’s fear.”
“Fear doesn’t excuse a hundred years of oppression and abuse,” Oscar said.
“No. But I understand the fear.” I reached forward to pet Ferguson’s mane and neck. “When I saw the way wraith twisted everything, how it killed and changed the world, I was horrified by my own magic. I hadn’t told the wraith to mutate the animals or give trees teeth, but I felt responsible. I didn’t want to use my own magic ever again.”
Though I had. Almost right away. And a dozen times since.