“For the record, I don’t like you, but I trust that you want to be a good queen and that you have the best interests of your people at heart.”
“For the record, I don’t care, and you can trust that I want to be agreatqueen.”
Closing her eyes, Naelin concentrated. She felt for her connection to the spirits of Aratay, and to her surprise she also “saw” the connection of the spirits of Semo to Merecot. As if she were snipping threads on embroidery, she severed the threads connecting her to her spirits, careful not to touch any of the threads leading to Merecot, though she felt as if she could have. All the threads lay before her.I release you. I abdicate. I am not your queen.
Not your queen.
She heard them echo her, distantly:Not our queen.
Not ours.
Not ours.
Not.
And Naelin swayed, feeling suddenly weak, as if she were a water bucket that had been drained—the sense of the spirits of Aratay were gone, to be replaced by an awareness of the spirits of Semo: coming toward the stone grove, hating her, hating their queen, determined to destroy them both.
Or at least Naelin.
Merecot knew she could kill her.
Right now.
Easy.
She wouldn’t even have to shed a drop of blood herself. Just call on one of the earth spirits to suck Naelin down into the stone, or one of the air spirits to raise her up and drop her. She had full control over every spirit in Semo, and all of Naelin’s strength couldn’t compare to that.
The instant that Naelin released the spirits of Aratay, Naelin staggered back, losing her grip on Merecot’s hands, and Merecot let her fall backward. The older queen slipped on the slick rock ground and sprawled out at Merecot’s feet.
For that moment, Merecot looked down at Naelin and contemplated murder.
It was the original plan: kill the queens and seize the power. Queen Jastra would have been whispering at her to do it. The old queen had sworn an opportunity would present itself once the wolf protector was removed.
This is an opportunity, but I’ve a far better plan,Merecot thought.Don’tkill Naelin. Let her take the wild spirits and go, and then visit Daleina with hands and conscience both clean—and at full strength, without the distraction of the excess spirits. If Merecot were innocent of regicide, then Daleina might welcome her old friend with open arms.
And then, maybe, I have a chance to fulfill my destiny.
Kill Daleina first, take control of Aratay, and then use the combined strength of both Aratay and Semo to squash Naelin with her paltry number of excess spirits.
But first, Naelin had to live now, so she could die later.
Reaching down, she helped Naelin back onto her feet. “Ready?”
Naelin took a deep breath, and Merecot saw her brace herself.Good.“Better be,” Merecot told her. “The spirits who aren’t linked to the land areverystrong.”
“So am I,” Naelin said grimly.
Merecot could admire that. Concentrating, she reached out—the spirits of Semo had already sensed that something was happening in the stone grove and were hurling themselves there as fast as they could. The wind was whipping around the grove hard, slapping at Merecot and Naelin, and the ground began to quiver under their feet.
She felt for the wild ones, the ones who weren’t sunk deep into the soil of Semo, the ones who wanted to fight and wanted to flee and wanted to tear apart the world she was trying to hold together. Grabbing ahold of the invisible connection that bound her to them, she imagined she was coiling those lines around her hand, tightening them into a single rope.
And then she cut the rope.
Naelin felt the spirits of Semo scream—the wild ones broke free, while the others strained at their bonds.I could take them all, she thought. At this moment, Merecot was weak. If Naelin pushed her mind into the swirling chaos, she might be able to wrest control of all of them, the ones from the untamed landsandthe ones native to Semo, away from Merecot. Within the grove, she could feel the threads of their connection.
I could ensure she never invades again.
I could protect Queen Daleina and all my people from her and her ambition.
