The Mirror King (Orphan Queen) (3 page)

IN MY BEDROOM,
I stripped off the bloodied gown and hunted through a wardrobe until I found a dark shirt and trousers. Finally, the haunting sense of internment lifted. James said I shouldn’t leave the palace, but this was something I needed to do.

Because as much as I disliked the prince, I was relying on Tobiah to help me reclaim my kingdom.

If he died, I would truly be a hostage here.

Resolved, I moved toward the front door and rested my fingers on the lock. Just then, footfalls slammed through the hall, toward the crown prince’s apartments. I held my breath as they shouted for another physician, but there was no word on his condition.

I twisted the lock, and the bolt fell into place with a heavy
thunk
. A breath went by before Sergeant Ferris noticed and began rattling the handle, but I was halfway to the balcony
already. “Help me to the ground,” I told the wraith boy. “Then I want you to hide under the bed”—surely he couldn’t hurt anything there—“and if anyone asks where I went, just tell them I will return soon.”

He followed me to the balcony. Stars crowded the sky, their faint shine glowing across the woods at the back of the palace. Gleaming remnants of the king’s glasshouse shimmered below. Cold air blew in from the west, buffered by the palace.

“Do you remember my instructions?”

“Yes, my queen.” He’d grown bigger outside, ready to follow orders. The acrid stink of wraith came off him, making my eyes water. “I will hide under the bed. I will tell anyone who asks that you’ll return soon.”

“Good.”

“Princess!” Sergeant Ferris was knocking at the door. “What’s going on?”

“Hurry.” I scrambled over the balcony rail so I faced out, my heels on the very edge, my calves and thighs pressed against the wrought iron. “Quickly, but carefully. Remember, if I die, you’ll be inanimate again.” As far as I could guess anyway. “I assume you have some sense of self-preservation?”

He sniffed, almost an offended sound, as he gently took me around the waist. Suddenly I was in the air.

My toes stretched for the ground, touching nothing as air whooshed around me. I was dropping.

Dropping.

Very.

Slowly.

Inside the room, the door banged open and James shouted
something, but finally my toes touched the ground. The wraith boy’s hands slipped off my sides and the odor of wraith retreated.

“What are you doing?” cried James.

“My queen will return soon.”

When I looked up, I could just see James striding toward the edge of the balcony. I stepped beneath it where he couldn’t spot me. Not yet.

“Wil!” James leaned over the balcony, scanning the gardens.

If Melanie had stayed, she’d have covered for me. She’d have known just what to say to distract James and his guards while I slipped away.

“Ferris.” James’s tone was hard. “Get a small team together and search for Her Highness. Keep this quiet. Last thing we need is for everyone to know she’s broken out.”

“She’ll return soon!” added the wraith boy.

“Yes, Captain.” Ferris’s voice grew softer as he left the balcony.

“And where are you going?” James asked.

“Under the bed until my queen returns.”

I stretched my senses, straining to hear footfalls and breathing and the catch of clothes on buildings or brush. Carefully, quietly, I kept to the shadows and slipped around the perimeter of the palace. When patrols strode by, I held still and silent. The surge of adrenaline in my head felt real and right as I darted through the once-extravagant courtyards, leaving the palace for the first time since the Inundation.

There wasn’t much of a difference between the King’s Seat and Hawksbill; the two ran together and their boundaries weren’t marked. So there was no way to tell as I moved from
one district to the other, but a rush of relief poured over me as I prowled around the wraith-twisted statues and trellises of nobles’ gardens, keeping beyond the glow of the gas lamps lining the streets.

Steadily, I moved westward, past the Chuter mansion and toward the Bome Boys’ Academy that sat along the Hawksbill wall. The school was four stories high, with a brick face and dozens of windows. Where there’d once been glass, now the holes were boarded up or covered with heavy wool blankets. Last I’d heard, the students had been sent home; during the Inundation, some of the doorways in the school had grown teeth and begun chewing.

Just past the school, I came to the wall.

It wasn’t impassible by any means, but without my grapple it would be a challenge to climb. The stone was smooth, even after the flood of wraith had changed the city.

Low voices sounded, and lanterns flared in the darkness between streetlamps.

I had to hurry, but without my tools, I had only one option.

“It’s for Black Knife,” I whispered, pressing my palm to the wall.
“Wake up. Make a passage to the other side big enough for me to walk through
.
”

Under my hand, the stone warmed and began to ripple. Blackness paraded around the edges of my vision and I swayed. This was a mistake. I hadn’t awakened the
entire
wall, had I?

“There!” The soldier’s voice came from close by. “I see someone!”

“Is it the princess?”

“Hurry,”
I whispered to the wall, and my vision blanked as
the stone split open with a low rumble and groan. I struggled to breathe, to tell up from down. My groping hands fell on the edges of the new tunnel through the wall. Narrow. But I could squeeze through.

“Flasher! Saints, she’s using magic!” A light fell over me, too bright. “Get a patrol on the other side. Run!”

A pair of boots thumped off, leaving two men running for me.

But I was already in the tunnel, which was barely wide enough for me to move through sideways. I scooted as fast as I dared, jagged edges of stone catching on my clothes and hair.

An arm reached in. Fingers scraped my elbow. My stomach turned and I wanted to tell the wall to close after me, but I couldn’t with him reaching through. Shouldn’t. I’d have to leave it open.

“Go to sleep
.
”
My hands scraped over the stone.
“Go to sleep
.
”

Just as the soldier started to squeeze in after me, fingers twisting around my sleeve, I threw myself out the opposite side of the wall. He let out a frustrated growl.

“By Captain Rayner’s orders, you must return to the palace!” The guard shouted through the hole, but I was already sprinting into Thornton before the rest of the patrol caught up. “You won’t be harmed!”

I was gone, down a street and keeping close to the shadows, and finally behind a bakery where I leaned against a wall and let my breath squeeze from my lungs in silent gasps. Cold slithered into my chest.

That had been close.

And the
magic
. That had been stupid. Dangerous. Even if I’d animated only a section of the wall, it had still been too much. I should have found a trellis or something to climb.

But there hadn’t been time. And Black Knife was still dying.

I gave myself another long, silent breath as I listened for the patrols, and then I found a stack of crates by a fence where I could climb to the rooftops.

And I got my first look at the nighttime city since the Inundation.

The dark was overwhelming.

In Hawksbill and Thornton, streetlamps glowed like stars and hope, but in Greenstone and the Flags farther south, there was nothing. Just flat blackness.

Only days ago, there’d been mirrors on every west-facing surface in the city, catching sunsets and moonlight. All seven districts of Skyvale had been lit with faint reflected light.

But when the wraith came, every mirror in the city was destroyed. Glass windows, glass shields over lamps: those were shattered, too.

Legend had it that King Terrell the Second, Tobiah’s great-grandfather, had been called the Mirror King when he’d had mirrors hung all over the city. While it ultimately became just another way for people to display their wealth, it had been intended to frighten the wraith from ever invading Skyvale.

The truth ended up being a lot more complicated.

My wraith, what was now the boy, certainly didn’t
like
mirrors; it had stopped chasing me at West Pass Watch because of them. But in Skyvale, it had shattered the mirrors rather than retreat. How? Because I’d brought it to life?

I gave the dark, unfamiliar city one more look before I threw myself into it.

For hours, I moved from Osprey hideout to Osprey hideout, searching for signs of my friends. I kept an eye out for Patrick as well, but what would I do if I found him? I was unarmed, and as much as I wanted to catch Patrick and punish him for what he’d done, that wouldn’t help the prince.

It was almost midnight when I approached the Peacock Inn in White Flag—or what was left of the inn. It hadn’t been much to look at before the Inundation, but now boards had warped and bricks over the front of the building had melted over windows.

I stood at the corner of a nearby building, watching the inn for signs of the patrols James had sent after me. Three of my last stops had had a police officer lurking about, which meant James knew where I’d gone—and why.

Usually, the inn was loud with drunks and thugs, but the whole city was quiet. The few people who braved the debris-filled streets skittered from place to place, keeping their heads low. Prey, waiting for a predator to strike.

Sounds from the taproom were muted. No one felt festive tonight.

If there were any officers here, they weren’t showing themselves. I dropped to the street and moved for the front door; the window I usually entered by wasn’t there anymore.

The front door opened and Melanie strode out.

We stopped and stared at each other for a heartbeat, and then her arms were around my shoulders and she gave a faint, relieved cry. “Saints, Wil!”

“Mel!” I hugged her back, then ushered her into a narrow alley. A dull
crack
sounded under her boot; we both froze, but the dirt and old papers that concealed the glass also muffled the noise.

We both exhaled.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. “Why are you here?”

“What are
you
doing here?” I glanced toward the top floor, dark and eerie without the mirrors. “Are they here? Connor and the others?”

“They’re sleeping.” She leaned closer, smelling faintly of fire and something warm and damp. “There are people looking for you. Soldiers. The police. Looking for
Princess Wilhelmina
. Everywhere I go, I hear your name. Someone said you’re a flasher. What did you do?”

“Nothing. I broke out of the palace. I have to get Connor.”

“Are you a prisoner there?”

There wasn’t really a good answer to that question.

“Why Connor?” she pressed.

“I need to take him back to the palace.” Melanie didn’t know that Connor was like me. No one did.

“Are you afraid that I’m going to tell Patrick?”

My heart gave a painful lurch. “
Are
you?”

“No,” she breathed, looking hurt. “Saints, no, Wil. I only went with him because you need someone to keep you informed. You know that, right?”

“You couldn’t inform me that he planned on assassinating Crown Prince Tobiah?” Stupid Tobiah, standing out there on the balcony only days after the first assassination attempt.
Less than a week after his own father had been killed. Stupid, stupid boy.

At least, if he’d been just Prince Tobiah, I could have blamed ignorance or arrogance, but he was also Black Knife, and for that I could only assign reckless need to do what he viewed as right.

“This is the first time I’ve been able to get away.” Her shoulders slumped. “He suspects why I went with him. There’s no proof, of course, and as far as he knows, we’re still”—she swallowed hard—“together. But he’s kept a close eye on me. The only reason I was able to get out tonight was because we need supplies. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“To go where?”

“Aecor. Where else?”

Where else indeed? “Why tomorrow?”

“He’s certain the wound Tobiah took will be fatal.”

“It is a mortal wound.” The words scraped my throat. “He won’t survive it.” Not without Connor.

“We’ll be out of the city by dawn. He aims to reach Aecor before the week is up.”

“Where have you been? Where is he hiding out?”

She sighed and glanced toward Greenstone. “Everywhere. The warehouse district, the riverside, neighborhoods you and I would hesitate to venture into. He’s got us moving every hour, and he doesn’t tell us where the next place will be.”

“So where are you meeting him when you go back with supplies?”

“Fisher’s Mouth. That’s actually where I came from. It’s the
first time we’ve stayed still since this morning.” Her expression hardened. “You intend to send the police after him?”

“Of course. He assassinated Terrell. He tried to kill Tobiah twice.” I couldn’t say when he’d decided murder was an option, but it had never been one for me.

Her shoulders lowered with acceptance. “I’ll keep him there as long as possible, but he’s so paranoid right now I’m afraid to appear suspicious.”

“I understand. Do what you can.” Cold wind sang through the alley, making me shiver. “Maybe we can put a stop to this before it gets even more out of control.”

She brushed back a strand of hair. “The plan hasn’t changed, Wil. Even without you, Patrick will go to Aecor and rally the people to your name. He’s more determined than ever to retake Aecor by the anniversary of the One-Night War.”

That was only a few months off. “And when people ask why I’m not with him?” I could already hear the answer, even before she spoke it.

“He’ll tell them the Indigo Kingdom is holding you hostage.”

Exactly as I suspected. “Come back with me. Let’s get the others and go to the palace.”

She shook her head. “You need me with him. I can temper him. Pull him back when he goes too far by reminding him that you’re going to be the one ruling Aecor, and whatever he does will reflect on you.”

“Like regicide?”

“Say it again,” she muttered. “I have to go now. He’ll ask questions if I’m gone too long.”