I look around as if a perfect solution will appear, but of course it doesn’t.
I have tomakethe solution.
Turning in the other direction, I pin my sights toward Highbell instead of away from it. That’s where the flames started, but I don’t think it’s spread the entire width quite yet. Perhaps we can veer toward the edge of the forest and get back to Highbell instead of fleeing further away.
“We need to change course,” I say, holding my shoulders straight despite how sore they are.
“Toward the city?” one of the men asks incredulously. “Are you mad? That’s where them fae are!”
“The forest isn’t safe. We aren’t staying ahead of the flames as I’d hoped. For all we know, this fire could be fueled magically and every single Pitching Pine could be ash come morning, and us with it,” I say levelly.
The man quiets, and murmurs stretch between the group.
“So what are we going to do? Where will we go?”
I pause. “We will have to hide in the city.”
“But the fae!” another woman calls out.
“They’ve been passing through for over two weeks,” I point out. “They won’t be expecting anyone to have survived. I will search the outskirts myself. All we need isonesingle building still intact. I’ll find a place we can hide where the fae won’t find us.”
My promise trickles down each expression. Fifty people. It seems like a lot to try to hide, to be responsible for. And yet it’sfar, far too few. So many have died, and I can’t let anyone else succumb, either by the hand of the fae or the flames.
“Once we’re in the city, we will also search for more supplies—gather more food,” I tell them, and I see a couple of them lick their lips, as if their starved bodies salivate at the very mention of eating.
“And if there isn’t any food?” Dari asks. Her face stays stoic, but I see the fearful tear that drips from the corner of her eye as she clutches her daughter. “Or any safety to be found?”
She must ask. She must, because it’s not her life she’s thinking of—it’s the life of her child.
Which is why I look her in the eye and make another promise. “If there is none to be found, then I will find another way.”
I am responsible for them, just like she is responsible for her daughter. When a woman faces an impossible problem, whether she be mother or queen, she must find a solution. She must find a way.
So I will.
CHAPTER 15
QUEEN MALINA
Their faith in me formsa lump in my throat as we hurry toward the city. We trek through shin-high snow, the forest thickening with a blanket of heat that emanates from the encroaching flames. I keep us heading toward the trees that aren’t yet consumed, in hopes that we can edge around the fire.
My people follow me, I follow the smoke, and all the while, the Pitching Pines burn. Their icicle needles crack as they fall. This forest, which has flourished for so many generations and outlived so many kings and battles and storms…is dying right in front of our eyes.
And we’ll die too if we stay here. They’ll die because ofme.
We venture through the forest, everyone traveling as quickly as they’re able. Yet we have the frail, the old, the young, the hurt. With all of us weak, trudging through the thick snow and cloying smoke makes us slower.
Though the threat of the biting fire keeps us moving.
The consuming flames growl with insatiable hunger as they eat through the pine trees with quickening speed, spreading faster from the wind. Ash blows with it, speckling our clothes and falling down like snow. The scent of burning pine chars my nose, and the faraway crack of falling trees sets my teeth on edge.
As we get closer to the city, the flames get closer too. No longer do we have a comfortable space between us where the trees are still untouched at the edge. Now, the heat of the flames pulses against the left side of my body, the light of the orange glow festering on my cheek. I keep part of my cloak against my mouth and nose, but the scent of smoke is overwhelming.
The fire is getting too close. Far too close.
“Keep going!”
I turn around, checking, counting—always counting to ensure I haven’t left anyone behind. The mother and her daughter have fallen to the back of the group with the street sweepers, and another woman is passed out in her husband’s arms. His arms shake, but he doesn’t drop her.
