Queen Mikko went motionless in front of a grand tomb.
She said nothing else. There was no need to.
King Athon curved around our group and lifted the top off the original caster’s resting place, his muscles bulging. He set the ornamented stone on the ground. The King of Shifters tipped his chin to the skeleton inside, a staff of gold clutched in its hand.
The shifter king stated, “Take it, Queen Mikko. It is yours.”
She brutally shook her head. “No.”
King Traevon stepped forward, and he said gently, “You are far better than he. Make right what he made wrong.”
The Queen of Casters sucked in a shaking breath.
Her blood-drenched right hand pulled the staff out of the skeleton’s hands. She stared at the golden staff for a full minute before she held it out over the tomb, silently.
One by one, we each set our hands on it.
I blinked, not moving away from the caster queen, but lowered my hand.
The rulers did the same—including Queen Mikko.
The golden staff bounced loudly on the white tile in High Pointe, the conference room unchanged and still divinely beautiful.
Only Black Louie walked toward us, the other gremlins quiet and staying back. He lifted the artifact off the ground, saying in his monotone voice, “I will keep the Staff of Justice safe until it is needed.” The tiny, green gremlin turned and walked away. “Prepare yourselves. The Merfolk Kingdom is next.”
Queen Mikko’s chest started heaving, her breaths loud in the silence. She swayed where she stood, leaning toward me, blinking blindly at my face.
I caught her before she fell.
I held her close as shescreamedher pain.
Her tears did not stop for a very long time.
The Queen of Casters had taught me much today.
