Queen by Claire Farrell
“Where have you been?” I asked her.
She transformed and answered, “Listening. Did you take something from that room?”
“Why?”
“Sadler is looking for something. He thinks the other woman, Ronnie, took it. But he flew into a rage so easily that I think something else happened first. He was in that room, tearing it apart, pulling out his own hair in his rage.”
“Who got hurt?”
She shrugged and moved to the window. “If you have something to hide, we need to do it now. He’ll search this room soon. Mark my words.”
“What is he looking for?”
“I have no idea, but it must be important. It has something to do with Ronnie or…” She frowned. “You know, don’t you?”
“Well, maybe, but I don’t really know what it is.” I reached under the mattress and took out the stick.
Bekind grabbed it and turned it over in her hands. “Magic I’ve never felt before. What is this?”
I remembered something. Ronnie had once told me that the fae liked to hide their weaknesses in plain sight, usually surrounded by far more extravagant items. I hadn’t paid much attention at the time, but she had to have been on the right track because I already knew that the stick reacted around the taint. And what if the taint itself was the source of Sadler’s power? What if that was why he never left his castle, why he kept his subjects in the darkness of a barren land?
I took the stick back. “Watch this.” I squeezed it. Black liquid seeped from my hand and was absorbed by the stick.
“It cleans the taint,” she whispered. “Cara, this is important. We have to hide it until we find out more.”
“What tree is this wood from? Do you think it’s the wood or some kind of magic that does it?”
“Let’s hope it’s a tree. If a tree can soak up the taint from the earth, we can stop the Darkside from spreading.” She sounded excited. “It could change everything.”
“Where can we hide it?” I asked.
She thought for a moment. “With Dubh when he returns. Until then, I’ll keep moving it to different places.”
“When you and Anya find a way out of here, give the stick to Brendan. Not Drake. Brendan. Deorad is alive. Drake won’t think clearly. Brendan’s the one who needs the information. I don’t care what he does with it, but somebody with power has to know.”
“You went into the locked room. Tell me what happened.”
“Deorad was there, alive but not. And Sadler had been allowing Ronnie to torture him every night. I think Sadler looks younger because he’s somehow using Deorad’s life force. I don’t know the details, but he practically admitted as much. I bet it has something to do with that doctor. Nobody knows who he is, but everyone hates him. This is a court of misfits, but the doctor is still an outcast.” Just like Bart.
“If Deorad was supporting Sadler, then why would the king allow his son to be harmed?”
I blew out a breath. “Because Sadler already knew that Deorad couldn’t be killed in ordinary ways. Ronnie could torture him all she liked, but he would heal because he’s protected by some kind of magic. He’s covered in scars. His wings are gone. He’s barely breathing, but he keeps holding on. And Sadler’s not an old man on his deathbed anymore.”
She gazed at the wooden stick. “This makes no sense.”
“If Sadler is looking for this, then it must be important. We have to keep it away from him. Maybe it’s the thing keeping Deorad alive or something.”
“I’ll hide it now. Most of the guards are with Sadler. Many of the court slipped away tonight, and the rest are asleep.”
“Slipped away? As in left?”
“The court grows smaller still. I’ll go now. Lock up after me.” She hesitated at the doorway. “Sadler was a good man. He once had a heart, but it was stolen from him so easily that I worry for someone with as much heart as you. Don’t end up like him, no matter how much we try to ruin you.”
After she left, I locked the door after her and rushed to the window. If she had been a cat, I would never have spotted her in the shadows. But in the lilac gleam of the moon, her hair shone. She looked like some kind of angel as she ran to the stables.
That night, I slept through dark dreams and awoke as confused and unsure as ever. But we were definitely on the cusp of something.
In the morning, we were awakened by someone kicking the door. I nodded at Anya, and she opened it.
Sadler stood in the hall, his face contorted. He was surrounded by soldiers. “Get out,” he said. “Into the hall.”
I obeyed without a word. Vix was in the hallway, the lower half of her face badly bruised.
“Are you okay?” I asked automatically.
She looked away and refused to speak. There I was again, on the brink of discovery. I felt myself growing closer to whatever it was I needed to know. It was just out of my reach, but I felt it waiting for me.
Sadler tore the room apart. He destroyed my clothes, even throwing some out of the window.
“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“Find the woman,” he snapped to his soldiers. “Make sure she’s alive because I’m going to kill her myself.” He strode out and down the stairs without looking at me.
Anya clung to me. Our time was running out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The court was a collective bag of nerves for the following fortnight. The fae kept their heads down to keep from drawing attention to themselves. Sadler was in a filthy temper. He fidgeted constantly with the patch over his eye, threw me hateful looks, and punished anyone he felt like hurting. And I hadn’t seen Bekind or Ronnie at all.
After a walk in the gardens with Anya to check on Brighid’s flower, I caught sight of Bart limping down the hallway. I called his name, and he waited for me, but he didn’t look pleased.
“I never got a chance to thank you for warning us.”
He frowned. “You thank the fae too much.”
I stared hard at him. Something about him was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Was there something else you wanted?” he asked.
I took a step back at the coldness in his tone. “Um, have you seen Ronnie?”
“What do you want with her?”
I folded my arms. “She’s human. Just like me. She was my lecturer in college. She’s here because of me. I’m responsible for her.”
“You’re responsible for a mad old woman with a thirst for blood?” he scoffed. “And now I’ve officially heard everything.”
“What the hell is up your arse?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, I knew what it was.
“Your eyes are a different colour,” I blurted. The white had become sky blue.
“You want to hear my problem, my lady? My problem is troublesome little girls rummaging around in what’s no business of theirs and then not even bothering to finish the job.”
I stared at him for a moment, trying to translate. I shook my head. “Nope, sorry. No idea what you’re trying to say.”
He grabbed my arm. “If you’re going to do it, do it before the entire court deserts him or dies at his hands.”
“Do what?” I whispered.
He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. “Why don’t you ask Vix? It’s her story more than mine.”
I jerked my arm away and backed up a step. “Don’t bother speaking in riddles. It’s a waste of your breath and my time. If you have something to tell me, then spit it out.”
He stared at me for too long. “No, I haven’t seen Ronnie lately. Nor any black cats, either.”
I inhaled sharply as he turned and walked away, a little straighter than before, no limp visible. There was that reminder again. Nothing was as it seemed.
“Keep away from him,” Anya advised under her breath.
I linked arms with her. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find Vix.”
I swallowed my suspicions and faced front. I had a lot of information whirling around in my head. I just needed to bring it all together.
“I feel an ailment coming on. Send for the doctor!” Sadler shouted.
Half the court flinched as one.
Vix stepped closer to him and whispered, “Don’t you think—”
“No,” he snapped. “I don’t let you think for me, Vix.” He gestured at her and told the nearest soldier, “Take her to the dungeon.”
“What?” I said at the same time as Vix said, “No, please.”
Sadler ignored me and told Vix, “I smell the treachery on you. Did you help her escape? Did you feel like the hero?”
She held up her hands in protest. “I helped no one. I haven’t done anything. Please.”
“Reynard! Get Reynard in here. Remove that creature before I change my mind and strike her down.”
Vix didn’t struggle as she was taken away. Reynard smirked when he returned. Changes were coming too quickly, and Sadler was growing more unpredictable by the day. I had to do something.
When Sadler declared a break from court, I snuck into the kitchen with Anya.
“Can you get me into the dungeons?” I asked the cook.
“Dungeons?” The cook shook her head. “What would you be wanting down there?”
“I need to speak to Vix.”
She sighed heavily. “She got herself sent down there? No sense, that one. Never had.” She quickly moved around the room, grabbing food and stuffing it into a bag. “You’ll take her a package for me. I’ll have a maid show you where to go.”
“You’re helping her?”
“I’m fond of her.” She looked me in the eye as she handed me the bag. “I used to take care of her.”
A maid escorted us to the dungeon. It wasn’t like the place Dymphna had been held, wasn’t like anything I had ever seen. It was dank and miserable, and the taint was strong.
I spotted Vix lying on the floor in one of the cells. “Vix, are you okay?”
She looked up at me. “Why are you here?”
“Cook sent food.”
Vix snorted and sat up. “She would.”
“Are you all right?” I asked, slipping the bag through the bars.
She leaned forward and took the bag. “It’s not my first time. I’ll be fine. I know what to expect.”
“You’re… are you Deorad’s daughter?” I asked.
“I suppose.” She shrugged. “Not that any of us have a claim or even true names. They say it makes us lacking.”
“Is this what happens to his children? They grow up and become a part of his army?”
“Or his kitchen or his gardens. They grow up in darkness, and here they remain. How we end up depends on our mothers. Some of us are more important than others. All are hopeless. All are unnamed.” She smiled wryly. “Some of us remember the names our mothers gave us. And the rest of us give each other names. Childish games to make us all feel better.”
“Why were you sent down here?”
“He thinks that I helped the other human, that I gave her the means to destroy Deorad. But I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. I wanted to kill her to honour him, but someone must have beaten me to it. Unless you helped her.”
“I haven’t seen her. You’re… Drake’s sister. Half sister.”
“It means nothing to him. Less to me. I care not for blood or family.”
“You have royal blood. Even the cook in the kitchen has royal blood. So why don’t they do something about it?”
“Who wants to be known as Deorad’s offspring?” she scoffed.
“And yet you wanted to honour him,” Anya whispered.
Vix looked at the pixie for the first time. “Honour is a funny thing. I found I didn’t have a taste for the idea of him being tortured every evening as he lay defenceless. He should be dead. He will be dead. And if he dies… who knows what will happen next?”
“What will happen to you?” I asked.
“I’ll wait here. Someday, Sadler will need me again and call me back to the surface. Until then, I wait in my own little hell.”
“I’m so sorry for you,” I said.
“Sorry?” She laughed. “There’s no such word in the Dark Court. Chaos is for winners, after all. And you should leave before you get caught.”
I nodded. “I’ll try to come back.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, turning her back on me.
Anya grabbed my hand and rushed me away from the cells and back toward the light. At the entrance, we ran right into the chest of a soldier dressed in black.
“I was just… I stole food from the kitchen to give to Vix,” I blurted.
“You did no such thing,” the soldier said.
“Rumble, I mean, Comhaill. What are you doing here?”
“Came to check on an old friend.”
I stared up at his helmet. “Old friend or sister?”
He moved to go past me. “We don’t think in those terms. Not down here. Wouldn’t be much point.”
I grabbed his arm. “Wait! I think in those terms, and those terms would make you and Vix my baby’s aunt and uncle. So when I’m gone, try to remember that.”
He hesitated before brushing me off and walking away.
“What are you doing?” Anya protested. “They’ll turn on you. You don’t want your child near those people.”
“They might be all she has if everything goes wrong.” My breath hitched. “I need to be able to tell myself that I did everything I could.”
***
A few days later, court was disturbed again.
“The horse!” somebody shouted. “The horse has returned.”
I was on my feet quicker than Sadler and outside before even Reynard. Dubh raced through the gates, sweating and without a rider.
I moved toward him. He settled under my touch, but he was panting hard. He had been through something.
“Anya,” I called, “make sure they look after him properly.” I was too focused on the bundles strapped to him—plants, dug straight from the earth.
“What is this?” Sadler asked from behind me.
“I sent Fiadh to the Miacha. Where’s the head gardener? She sent us herbs, things we can use in medicines.” I plucked a piece of paper from between the bundles. “There’s a note.”
Sadler whipped the page out of my hands.
“What does she say of me?” Glic asked. “Of the boy?”
“Nothing,” Sadler said. “It’s not a letter. It’s just a list of names for the plants.” He frowned at me. “Medicines for what?”
“Some for pain, I know that much,” I said. “We’ll have to plant them, but if they grow, we’ll have everything we need here.”
“They won’t grow in tainted soil,” Sadler said, “not if they came from elsewhere.”
“There’s enough soil with them to protect them,” the gardener said, sounding excited. “If we take care of them, we’ll soon have some of the things we need.”
“You need this,” I told Sadler, confused by his lack of enthusiasm. “This will help the people of your court. A lot.”
“There’s not enough for an army. And that’s all I care about.” He dropped the page and walked away, followed by most of the court.
Some lingered. Rumble picked up the paper and handed it to me before he left, too.
“Plant them near Brighid’s flower,” I told the gardener. “If we keep them together, they might survive. Just make sure you don’t confuse the different herbs. We don’t want to mix up the leaves when we need them.”
The rest of the day was spent in discussion over
And for a moment, I wondered if I could make a difference.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
In the middle of another tense day at court, Sadler abruptly stood, grabbed one of his soldiers, and flung the man to the floor. Surprised, the soldier fell down the steps of the dais.
Sadler roared with laughter. “Weakling! A cockfight! That’s what’s needed. A fight to the death. Whoever wins replaces this fool.”
Murmurs spread around the room.
“Now!”
Everyone began to move. I sat still, unsure exactly what was happening.
“Outside,” Sadler said. “Bring the thrones. I don’t want my floor stained with the blood of the pathetic.”
Anya slipped her hand into mine as we scurried out of the way. Some servants carried the thrones outside, struggling under the heavy weight. Anya seemed to shrink into herself as she walked. In fact, most of the faeries leaving the hall had their heads down.
Outside, we sat on the newly moved thrones as some kind of arena pit was hastily prepared. I wanted to ask what was going on, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know.
Sadler kicked a soldier. The man didn’t react at all.
Sadler huffed, his eyes roaming the trembling crowd. He pointed at a servant. “You!”
The crowd shifted away from the faery. He was the one who had come to my room on the first morning. He was slim and wiry but obviously not a fighter. He had been scared of me, after all. His hands shook noticeably as he approached Sadler.
“And where is the fool?” Sadler shouted.
The wind blew harder, and the sun disappeared behind a cloud. I shivered but not just from the chill.
The soldier Sadler had flung down the steps was pushed toward the pit by his colleagues. Another soldier picked up the servant and flung him into the pit. The smaller man curled up in a ball as he landed.
“Pathetic.” But Sadler sounded excited.
I felt sick. The whole scene reminded me of the time Brendan had been tossed into a pit to fight against… I sucked in a breath. Had Sadler’s champion been Deorad or someone like Rumble?