The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)

“I’ll figure it out.”


The marvel of being out of the Indigo Kingdom gave way to aching anticipation, and a melancholy note rang on the wind as we traveled the endless bridge.

Steel tower after steel tower plunged into the snow-streaked waves of the bay. At noon, we ate small lunches on our horses, and I listened to Melanie tell stories she’d learned from books in the Sandcliff Castle library, and the boys discuss how the battle had gone, and what certain people would think now that I was back and Patrick was going to prison.

Melanie pointed out Snowhaven Island, clustered in with a number of other islands filled with evergreen trees and water fowl. The bridge was anchored on the southern tip, and soon the convoy blocked my view, so the only thing to watch was the waves.

Finally, as the sun shifted behind us, I saw the pale scrape of land on the horizon, and the suggestion of towers in the south. My heart pounded as my homeland grew on the horizon, the cliffs becoming more solid and real. A lighthouse flashed and soon the end of the bridge was in sight. A pair of guard towers stood on the Aecor side, identical to the Indigo Kingdom side.

I kicked Ferguson into a trot, vaguely aware of James picking up his pace behind me as I maneuvered between riders. A few people shouted for me to slow down or watch out, but when people ahead realized I was coming, they moved out of my way.

Without my urging, Ferguson shifted into a gallop, his hooves ringing across the bridge. Gulls cried and waves crashed. Wind tore at my clothes and howled in my ears, but I was close. So close.

“Wil!” James’s voice came from behind me. “It’s not safe to go so quickly!”

I didn’t care. Ferguson didn’t care.

“We’re almost home,” I whispered. We passed wagon after wagon until we were ahead of the convoy. I could feel Ferguson’s hooves slip on patches of ice, but he kept his footing. Then we were off the bridge.

Onto the dirt.

I reined him in and he slowed to a walk, snorting white clouds into the cold air. My heart thundered in my ears as I dismounted, legs wobbling with adrenaline and disbelief.

James caught up and leapt off his horse. “Wil, are you crazy?” He grabbed my shoulders. “You could have slipped right off the bridge!”

I laughed, high and giddy, and threw my arms around him. My eyes were heavy with tears from cold and wind and wild joy. “I’m home, James. I’m finally home.”





TWENTY-EIGHT


THE BELLS BEGAN to ring as soon as the convoy started up the winding promontory.

Aecor City sat on a cliff side overlooking the Red Bay, where fishing boats were moored in the harbor. The rocky face glowed gold under the setting sun, crevices shadowed and fluttering with roosting eagles and gulls. Ospreys hunched in their stick nests, watching the noisy approach as the wagons were removed from the old iron tracks, their secondary wheels swung down.

I was home.

Peace had taken me home before war.

The thought swelled in my chest as we headed to the main city gates, carved from stone and reinforced with steel. The osprey sigil, framed by sharp ocean waves, shimmered in the setting sunlight. Enormous towers pierced the purpling sky, with vermilion banners hanging from the parapets. Trumpets sounded, and the gates cranked open.

Home, home, home: the word thrummed in my head like a second heartbeat, distracting. I glanced at James behind me.

“When people came here from across the sea, Aecor was flat. Like any place that’s mostly coastal plains and marshes, it flooded. But the people loved the sea and couldn’t bear to leave, so radiants raised a plateau on which to build the city. Sandcliff Castle is carved from the land below it. It was built of this land, with this land’s magic, and for this land’s people. The keep held my ancestors for nine generations.”

Prince Colin’s smirk slithered onto his face.

Finally, the main gates finished opening to reveal Castle Street, a wide avenue leading up the hill and to the main keep.

People crowded along the sides of the road, lifting small children onto shoulders, while others climbed onto buildings or statues—anything that might offer a good view. Others leaned out windows and filled balconies. Their shouts shook the entire city.

The most prestigious shops lined Castle Street. They were meant to entice and impress visitors. Even now, with the city packed onto the street, merchants waved packets of spicy-smelling food, trinkets, and lengths of cloth. Black-coated police wove between the people, but no one paid them mind.

My heart pounded in time with the rising cry of my name: Wilhelmina, Wil-hel-min-a. The roar made my head spin with giddiness, and not even the gloom of Prince Colin’s stiff figure beside me could dim the fierce pride boiling in my heart.

Behind me, Melanie laughed and added her voice to the chorus calling my name. The Gray brothers roared.