I scan the crowd until my eyes fall on a deep red flame. It’s a fire sprite with a female figure, slightly larger than the blue wisp—about twice the length of my palm. She lets out a girlish gasp as she realizes she has my attention. Her eyes are wide as she fights to hide the squeal building in her throat, her tiny hands framing her face. I’m almost positive I recognize her, based on her unrestrained enthusiasm alone. “What is your name?” I say to her.
“Breeda, Most Esteemed and Beautiful Majesty!” Her voice trembles with her effort to keep her composure.
“Breeda, you will accompany me to the palace tomorrow afternoon. You will keep watch over me when we arrive and light any dark places.” I don’t actually know if there will be such dark places for her to illuminate, but I hope it sounds like an honorable job. And if she’s the same sprite I remember, she’d asked to journey with me to Fire anyway.
She spins in a circle before facing me again. “Most Glorious Queen Evelyn, this is a great honor. I won’t let you down.”
I glance at Lorelei, seeking her approval. All she gives me is a subtle shrug and a slight grimace. “If you say so.”
“You said budding loyalty,” I mutter.
“That’s more than loyalty,” she whispers back, but I can hear the laughter in her voice. “That’s more like idolatry.”
She’s right, but maybe that’s exactly what I need. If I can hardly accept that I’m now queen of an entire court, the least I can do is surround myself with those who believe in me enough to make up for the faith I lack. And maybe—just maybe—my rule as queen will come to feel more than just an act.
Until then, idolatry will have to do.
8
The next day, I follow Nyxia down the dim obsidian halls beneath Selene Palace toward the dungeon. Shadows writhe up and down the bars of the dark cells that line the walls, each occupant hidden from view, likely cowering far away from whatever debilitating power said shadows contain.
My throat feels dry as Nyxia stops outside one of the cells—one I haven’t visited since the day my sister arrived. I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides, relishing the sharp sting as my nails dig into my palms; it’s a welcome distraction from the anxiety that builds in my chest at the thought of facing Amelie.
One of the dungeon guards, a wraith in flowing black robes, slides open the barred door. I uncurl my fists and shake out my hands, turning up a palm with the intention for light. After a few seconds, a pale blue flame sparks above my hand where it hovers steadily as I steel myself to enter.
“Are you sure this is wise?” Nyxia says, stopping me in my tracks before I can step inside. Her tone is laced with irritation, but I can sense what lies beneath it—fear. The Lunar Queen, the powerful alpha capable of summoning one’s deepest terrors to the surface of their mind isafraid. But I don’t think she’s afraid for herself; she’s worried for me.
If I wasn’t feeling so on edge, I’d be honored knowing Nyxia cares enough to consider the distinct possibility that Amelie could still be working under Cobalt’s orders and will kill me at her first chance.
“Isn’t that how the saying goes?” I whisper to the queen. “Keep your enemies close?”
She shakes her head dismissively and steps back to lean against the wall opposite the cells. Despite her casual posture, I can see her shoulders are tensed, body poised to leap to my defense if needed.
With the comforting assurance of the Lunar Queen’s protection, I enter the cell with slow, cautious steps. It isn’t until I’m at the center of the tiny room that my blue light falls on a form huddled in the corner of the far wall. Amelie appears to be sleeping, curled in on herself, back facing me. My chest squeezes as a wash of guilt tugs at my heart. When I first came to see her, I hadn’t noticed how sparse her accommodations were. Now I see there’s no bed, no chair, no table. Nothing but a few blankets, a chamber pot, and cold obsidian from floor to ceiling.What have I done? How could I have kept her like this?
I reach for my inner fire to steady me, calling forth my anger.Remember what she’s done. Remember what happened to Mother.
My guilt burns away, and I square my shoulders. With the tip of my shoe, I nudge Amelie in the shoulder. Once. Twice. Harder. “Wake up.”
Finally, she stirs. Back still facing me, she shifts to her hands and knees, then sits back on her heels. She looks one way and another, then at her hands. Her shoulders begin to tremble and heave, and a wail escapes her throat.
“Amelie,” I say.
She pays me no heed as she hunches forward, bringing her hands closer to her face. Her wail builds higher and higher until it’s a shout. Only then does it shape into words. “What have I done?”
“Amelie!” I say again, taking her by the shoulder with my free hand and forcing her around to face me.
She tumbles to the side as she whirls around, but her eyes are still on her hands. “Whose blood is this?” The flame in my palm illuminates the terror on her face, pupils dilated as her fingers quiver before her. “What did I do?”
My gaze flashes to Nyxia, who watches my sister with a furrowed brow. “Are you doing this?”
The queen shakes her head. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says in her smooth voice, “her fear tastes delicious, but it needs no help being conjured forth by me. Whatever she’s seeing is entirely her own making.”
I have a hard time believing that, considering what I was told about the shadows blanketing the cell bars. Perhaps the human side of my sister has made her more susceptible to whatever mental powers this dungeon has over its prisoners.
I turn back to my sister and crouch before her. Again, I take her by the shoulder, shaking her forcibly until her eyes meet mine. “Amelie, wake up!”
Her chest heaves as she blinks several times, body still convulsing. A look of recognition crosses her face, followed by relief. She lunges forward, arms outstretched.
