Chapter 16

  The Queen had her head buried in the latest intelligence that had been sent over from her spy over in the Vombardy Kingdom, an untouched cup of steaming tea beside her as she sat and pondered in the war room. Her pen scratching against the paper as her fingers tapped on the wooden table top in a rhythm that matched the ticking of a clock could be heard.

  The doors to the room opened, disturbing her peace and causing a frown to jump to her face. Her head instantly snapped to the intrusion and her eyes burning with cold intensity, like frostbitten steel. Who dared disturb her? She had made sure that her presence alone struck fear into the hearts of her subjects to keep interruptions to a minimum. This had better be very important or heads would roll.

  The messenger faltered only slightly before stepping forward. His hands tightening over the bunch of papers he carried, crumpling them a little.

  “I apologise for the intrusion, Your Majesty, but there has been an incident that requires your attention.” he stuttered out, refusing to meet the Queen in her eyes. Only adding to Nyxara’s annoyance.

  “And this couldn’t have been handled by someone far less important and far less busy?” She inquired, a sharpness to her words as her eyebrow raised dangerously.

  The man visibly gulped, she could see his Adams apple bob above the collar of his uniform. “N-No, Your Majesty. We believed that you’d want to see this yourself”

  Nyxara sighed irritably but held her hand out for the paperwork. Whatever this was, it had better be worth her time.

  The man hesitated for half a second, it would have been missed by most people, but the Queen was not most people and she noticed. His mistake.

  “I haven’t got all day. The papers. Now” she clicked her fingers and motioned for him to hand them to her. He practically stumbled over his own feet to obey her order. Handing her the papers before scurrying back to the safety of the doorway. A smart decision.

  On top of the stack of papers was a photo.

  Silence, absolute stillness. Not a sound, like the world dared not interrupt her as she looked down at the image staring back at her. The ticking of the clock was the only reminder that the world was still spinning around her.

  The Queen’s blood didn’t just run cold, it crystallised, and she felt anger grip at her, not burning like fire but encasing her mind and her heart in ice. Controlled, lethal and unmoving rage. Her exterior was still as a marble statue, her features gave nothing away but her eyes told a different story.

  Danger was coming in the shape of a glacial Queen and god bless anyone who stood in her way.

  The air around them seemed brittle, like even the breaths they took could shatter it as she look at the image, scanning every impossible feature, every implausible blemish, noticing the grey in her hair showing an age that shouldn’t have been possible, the wrinkles on a face that should have been nothing but ash years ago. Most people believe that the Queen Nyxara was heartless, and in many way, they were right. But she always remembered the faces of those she condemned. Every mage, every traitor, every soul who had the temerity to go against her word. Their names were always irrelevant – it was never about respect for those she killed, but the power behind their deaths. Each life she held in hand, hers to snuff it out at a moment’s notice.

  Death was the ultimate absolute and to wield it without understanding the weight behind the action – to take a life without thinking of the consequences of its finality, would be an insult to the throne she had spent a lifetime perfecting. Her rule was built on blood and skulls that were crushed beneath her feet as she carved a better, stronger kingdom from their corpses. Necessary sacrifices. She never forgot that.But this face. This face

  Shouldn’t have been staring back at her from the grainy printout in her hand. The last time she had seen this face, it had been engulfed in flames, its screams crawling at her ears. She remembered it vividly. It had been the only mage burning Ragneth had been insisting on attending. Staying behind to “pay her respects” she had said.

  Liar

  The word curled at the back of her brain, begging to be brought forward.

  Her mind flickered back to the conversation with Ragneth just a few days prior, the memory licked at the corners of her mind, like flames on a pyre. Each ember a sentence as they built and grew into the whole conversation about their partner who had been burnt at the stake, leaving behind a child they couldn’t care for.

  She remembered the Mage assuring her that there were no other secrets.

  Liar

  The word was closer now.

  Her grip on the paper tightened, her knuckles white. Her fury turned sharper, more potent. That word finally burst free, unchained and furious.

  LIAR

  The name came to her as if branded across her brain. Her teeth clenched as she seethed, her icy rage growling in the back of her throat as her glacial composure started to crack.

  “Garrett”

  There was just a momentary pause as she steeled herself, but her rage bubbled underneath her calm exterior like magma, her mind a volcano about to blow. “Leave..” Her voice was dangerously low, but the messenger didn’t need to strain his ears to hear the command. He had turned on his heel and fled like prey. The double doors clicking softly behind him sealing his escape. That was all it took for the volcano to erupt.

  Nyxara was on her feet in an instant, violently throwing her chair into the wall beside her, it shattered into pieces with the force of a bomb. How could she have let this happen? This was her kingdom, she saw everything! Not even the shadows were safe from her watchful eye. The papers were swept aggressively to the floor, floating down like fallen leaves. and her ornate china cup was launched across the room, covering the royal family portrait in tea and peppering her painted features in porcelain scars. A reminder of her failure and hers alone. She had had her heel on Ragneth’s neck and still failed to see what she was up to. How could she not have spotted this sooner? She over turned her desk it fell with a heavy crash. There was nothing but the sound of destruction, she let out no screams of fury or grunts of effort. The silence was the scariest part, the silence was what brought out fear and that was what she would use, like she always had.

  Bringing the rage in, Queen Nyxara straightened up, steadied her heaving chest and dusted down her suit as if to brush away the feelings she had felt so intensely just seconds earlier. Her royal mask back in place as if her rage never existed. When she spoke again her voice was steady and smooth, her signature smirk back on her face as her mind filled with all the ways to make those liars suffer.

  “Evalinena Garrett… You’re going to wish you had stayed dead”

  Her royal cape billowing behind her as porcelain and wood chips crunch under her heel as she swept through her destruction. Papers fluttered around her feet, one catching her eye – the grainy image of Garrett. It seemed to mock her, taunt her. Nyxara paused and watched it fall to the floor before stepping forward, her heel piercing through the paper like a dagger.

  She’ll crush Evalinena Garrett, and her knight in shining amour. She couldn’t let this go unpunished.

  Her eyes skim to the portrait, tea causing the paint to run on her families faces, as if bleeding in fury and pain at her failure. She wouldn’t let this go unpunished.

  She clenches her jaw briefly before throwing open the war room’s double doors. She stood at the threshold, basking in the instant tension that rippled across the castle from her entrance. She watched as her servant’s posture straightened, their gaze flickered from her to her destruction behind her for fractions of a second, not wanting to be seen, scared, fearful that her rage would turn to them instead of the furniture. She smiled internally at the fear and waited, stretching the silence until it was uncomfortable then spoke, her voice authoritative, cold and final as if she hadn’t just tore her war room apart in a furious wrath “Bring me Evalinena Garrettt. Kneeling and shackled. Or the next person who fails me” she paused, smirking “Well, you already know what happens”

  There was a chorus of “Yes, Your Majesty” before everyone launched into action, the messenger from before was talking quickly on a radio as he sprinted down the corridor, eager to escape Nyxara. Servant’s rushed to hidden doors and pulled out mops and brooms with practised speed, sticking to the sides of the corridor like ghosts as Nyxara strode confidently past, they bowed deeply when she passed them.

  By the time the Queen would return to the war room, it would look like nothing had happened. Her desk would be upright, her chair replaced, papers all stacked and grouped together neatly. The tea stained and shredded painting, porcelain shards and wood splinters would have been removed. The room would look spotless. As it should.

  But she wouldn’t be returning to the war room.

  She could hear the sound of the servant’s rushing to fix the damage she had done behind her, the sound becoming quieter and quieter as she turned through the winding corridors of the castle. The sound of her heels was muffled by the carpet and those she pasted knew not to disturb the peace, bowing deeply as she crossed their path but silent. It was if they knew what was about to happen and hoped it wasn’t them who would be on the receiving end of her wrath.

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  The Queen normally summoned Ragneth, a subtle reminder of the hierarchy.

  But not this time. This time she would find her herself.

  She knew that to send a message she needed to do it in person, to make Ragneth squirm under her heel, gasping for the air she allowed her so kindly to breathe.

  Approaching the door to Ragneth’s lab she was greeted by a guard who saluted smartly as she got closer. The guard was meant to keep Ragneth in line, and yet the mage still managed to slip through her fingers. She felt that anger bubble up again but she pushed it down as she pushed open the door. The room was like the rest of the lower levels of the castle made of cold, stone brick but the walls in this room were etched with runes that would glow when activated. A necessary precaution that would instantly bind Ragneth of her powers in the event she tried anything, it had yet to be used and through the years the runes had been covered by posters and writings of magic. The floor was stained and burnt in places from spells gone wrong. All the furniture had been pushed to the side, leaving a large bare area in the centre of the room.

  Ragneth was bent over a book and had yet to notice the Queen’s arrival. Her lips moved soundlessly as she read through the yellowed pages of a large tome evoking whatever secrets they held between their pages.

  The Queen observed silently for a few moments, not yet stepping into the threshold of the room. She watched as the woman worked, scribbling notes down before pulling down more books form a shelf just above her head to compare.

  Nyxara fingertips brushed one of the bricks beside the doorway. It glowed aquamarine before it flashed through the room, flowing through the etches in the stonework like blood in veins, casting the room in a faint blue glow, at the same time the Queen finally announced her presence with her signature smirk sitting on her features.

  “Hello, darling”

  Ragneth jumped violently, buried too deep in the feeling of her magic being taken from her to realise who exactly was standing at the door. It had felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over her. Her fingers twitched instinctively for the magic that was no longer there.

  “Y-Your Majesty” she stammered before bringing herself back together, forcing herself to stand tall, hoping the Queen had not seen her flinch. But the damage was done, Nyxara always saw. She knew this was bad, the Queen never came to visit her, she was more than happy to summon her like a dog. “What a pleasant surprise, to what do I owe this...personal visit?” she tried to keep her voice steady to show she was not affected by the Queen’s presence in her lab. A slight shake betrayed her.

  Nyxara strolled casually into the room, waving a hand as she did so, the blue glow fading slowly as the runes grew dormant. Ragneth felt a rush of heat as her magic flowed through her again. She gulped. But Nyxara didn’t stop walking towards her, heels clicking against the hard stone like claws. Ragneth took an involuntary step back as the Queen moved like a predator towards her, her eyes staring at her like she was prey. A look she knew so well from being by her side for so many years. She had not seen that look pointed at her since the day she was captured. Something inside her clicked and suddenly she couldn’t control her legs, backing her up to keep as much space between her and the Queen as possible until her back hit the cool brick. A dead end.

  Nyxara’s smirk grew but she made no move to pin her there. She knew that Ragneth was trapped, running would be useless – she’d be struck down before she even had the chance to leave the room. “You know more than anyone, little mage, that I prefer a more...hands on approach to ruling my kingdom. Hence why I am here” she gestured around the lab “In your dingy little lab I so lovingly gave you when I first captured you all those years ago, to deal with you instead of summoning you to the Judgement Chambers” Her tone was still dripping with mockery, as if what she was saying was no more than a joke between friends.

  Strangely, her words seemed to fuel Ragneth’s confidence, letting out a breathy laugh although it held no humour behind it. “And what is it about me that requires your personal attention? Surely, if it was so important I’d be exactly where you said I would be, the judgement chambers, kneeling before you while you decide my fate?” Ragneth tilted her head, her pulse thumping in her ears like war drums. She needed to gain some control of this narrative and quickly.

  “Or is this just another one of your games?” there was a pause, like an after thought “Your Majesty”

  The Queen let out a dark chuckle, her grey irises never leaving Ragenth’s vibrant green. “Oh you do know how much I love the little games between us, but this one” she leant closer, her mouth a hairs breath away from Ragneth’s ear, her voice dropping to a whisper “Involves your wife”

  Ragneth didn’t flinch this time but her pulse quickened, her heart drumming steadily against her ribs. Nyxara couldn’t hear it but she didn’t need to. She had the patience of a serpent either biding her time until she would strike, constricting her prey with words before sinking her fangs in for the killing blow or just simply watching them squirm beneath her, trapped by her powerful gaze.

  The icy cold fingers of fear slithered down her spine as she wondered why the Queen would suddenly bring up Mrs Garrett out of the blue.

  Perhaps this was a test?

  If the Queen wished to play predator and prey to get Ragneth to reveal her secrets then so be it, but she would not make it easy for her. “You must forgive me, Your Majesty,” her voice a mummer but deceptively calm “but my wife is dead. So unless you wish to have a conversation with her corpse, she is unable to play.”

  Nyxara tutted, wagging a gloved finger in front of Ragneth’s face. A look of betrayal on her face, but Ragneth knew it was all a game, yet the air held a hint of tension, like a beast waiting to strike under the thin surface of amusement. “Oh, Nethy, I am so disappointed in you, another lie” She purred while skimmed the collar of Ragneth’s shirt, her fingers like a spider crawling over prey already ensnared in its web. “You wound me, I thought we were past all this lying nonsense” her finger dipping to the shorter woman’s chest, stopping above her heart before withdrawing back into the folds of her royal cape.

  “It is not a lie, Your Majesty.” Ragneth doubled down, her voice steady – giving nothing away. “I know this is a test, because as I said before, a woman of your calibre would have found out all my secrets already”

  Nyxara bristled internally, another reminder of how much she failed to spot this grave mistake, but she hid it, widening her smirk into an unkind smile – too many teeth. “You see right through me, Ragneth. It was a test. I should have expected you to notice right away.”

  Her voice dropped to a dangerous hush “A mistake on my part that I refuse to let happen again”

  Then, just as suddenly, she turned her back on the mage, her tone snapping back to its usual mockery, the switch in tone so rapid and unnerving it was almost whiplash-inducing.

  “Come along now, little mage. I have something extra special waiting for you.”

  The Queen didn’t need to check that Ragneth was following behind her, she knew that Ragneth dared not disobey her – not now, not since she had mentioned her wife. Nyxara’s strides were long and purposeful, Ragneth – considerably shorter than the Royal – struggled to keep up with her pace down the long winding corridors of the castle. Only getting a moment to catch her breath when Nyxara stopped to look at paintings or murals that adorned the walls long since the Queen had been born.

  Ragneth recognized this tactic. Nyxara often did this as a way to keep the person who followed behind her on the back foot. To hint at an escape before it was snatched away from them in the blink of an eye. A psychological game that she often employed with those she wished to play with.

  This time it was Ragneth who was being played with, like a cat chasing a mouse. the Queen was making sure the route to their destination was long winded and impossible to determine. Every time Ragneth seemed to have an idea about where they would be going, Nyxara seemed to catch on and change their destination. By the time they had reached the menacing dark oak double doors to the throne room, Ragneth was out of breath and on the cusp of a breakdown, understanding now what was about to happen.

  Her lies had fallen out from beneath her feet.

  She was going to be punished, the walk to the throne room had been for her benefit, one last lap of the castle as a free woman before she was to be punished. Only judgment came for her now.

  She told herself that she was ready.

  But nothing could have prepared her for what lay beyond those doors.

  The Queen stopped just before the doors and gestured for Ragneth to step forward, “Open the doors, my little mage” She purred, voice dripping with condescension and mockery “I have a present for you”

  Ragneth’s heart dropped to her feet and she shoved the doors open aggressively, her eyes falling onto the so called “present” Nyxara had gifted her.

  Kneeling at the base of the throne, shackled in iron etched with the same runes that were on the wall her lab – and shaking – was Mrs Garrett. The woman she fought so hard to keep safe from the Queen for all these years. Here, in the castle, at the mercy of the Queen.

  It was too soon, she wasn’t supposed to be here yet, her capture was not part of the plan.

  Her mind was in a spiral as she sprinted to her side, dropping painfully to her knees on the cold floor and cupping her wife’s face before pulling her into a tight, desperate embrace. It had been so long since she had held her close.

  Nyxara’s dark chuckle echoed around the room, empty bar a handful of guards. The room was design to amplify even the smallest of sounds so even the soft coos of reassurance from Ragneth reverberated around the cavernous space.

  “You know, my pet.” She began as her heels clicked against the marble floor, arms behind her back as she paced to the centre of the room “I always wondered why you insisted on staying behind at her burning, but being such an understand and benevolent Queen, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.” She smirked “After all, with your secret – oh that little secret – about blowing up your village before disappearing into the sunset at my finger tips, ready to ruin you at a moment’s notice-” Ragneth stiffened, sending a desperate, helpless look at Mrs Garrett who stared back at her with shock. Ragneth had never told her why she had fled to the Carpathica Kingdom.

  The Queen stood towering over the two of them waving a hand almost in disinterest as if the details meant nothing to her before going on “-That there would be no way that you would do anything to put yourself at risk. But imagine my surprise when I get a message from my underground intelligence team that the system has come across a woman who died six years ago.”

  Ragneth didn’t reply, there was no point replying now. She hugged Mrs Garrett closer. Nyxara gestured with her hand and suddenly Ragneth was ripped from Mrs Garrett, cuffed in the same iron that held her wife. Her magic so close yet separated from her no matter how hard she tried to reach for it. She may as well be mortal now.

  “Do you play me for a fool, Nethy? First with the knowledge that you have a child. Hidden from me for eighteen years and now this?” Ragneth struggled against her captors in hopes of getting back to Evalinena. Nyxara grabbed Mrs Garrett’s hair, who let out a pained yelp as she was forced to look at Ragneth “A dead wife who instead lives and breathes like the rest of us?” She let go of Evalinena’s hair with a harsh tug forcing the woman’s head to side with a painful jerk. She dusted her hands off as if she had just touched something filthy or unclean. “For shame, Ragneth”

  While Ragneth struggled to reach her wife, Nyxara kept talking, wandering lazily over to the nearest guard and pulled his issued pistol, he made no move to stop her. He may as well have been a statue. The grip on the gun was engraved with the Carpathica house symbol that she traced with her fingertips as she palmed the weapon between her hands “I assume you faked her death and gave her a new identity beyond the walls of the city, far away from my prying eyes?” She clicked her tongue “I must admit, very clever.”

  She checked the clip and made sure there were rounds inside, only one round would be needed but it was always nice to have back up. Although she much preferred hand to hand combat, sometimes a weapon was necessary. This was one of those times. Sauntering up to Mrs Garrett she aimed the gun at her head, her voice deadpan and void of her usual dark humour. “I want everything you know on the Outlier, I know you lied to me about their identity. You knew who they were the second you saw their face on the screen.” She cocked the pistol “and if you even think for a second about falling back into bad habits, the servants will be cleaning up blood and brains from these white tiles before you have time to even draw a breath”

  “Please, don’t do this.” Ragneth begged her eyes never leaving the gun. Her mind blank as she took in the scene before her. Her wife, wrists red raw but eyes so sharp yet brimming with fear. The hopelessness that filled Ragneth was almost suffocating, but she had to stay above it – for Evalinena

  Nyxara scoffed, “Don’t beg, Nethy. It’s unbecoming of you” she pushed the muzzle against Mrs Garrett’s head, facilitating a cry from Evalinena. The metal was cold against her scalp, like the hand of death had gripped her and was just waiting to squeeze. “my patience for liars is slim to none, so just be grateful I didn’t gift you her corpse. Answer the question” her words came out almost a growl, the base of her tone shook every cell in Ragneth’s body with fear.

  She was forced to make a choice, a sick choice but she couldn’t lose her, not after everything she had done for her.

  Her answer came almost immediately “The Outlier is Veylyn...my child”

  Mrs Garrett let out a roar of disbelief, thrashing against the chains that held her, ready to launch herself at the woman she used to love. The Queen only smiled.

  “How could you?” Garrett bellowed, her voice raw with emotion, tears streaming down her face.

  “She would have killed you, marradole” Ragneth tried to reason with her, her voice was shaky but eerily calm. Evalinea didn’t understand that she had a plan, for her, for Veylyn, for every mage that is and will be. But soon she will. Soon.

  “I should have died years ago!” She screamed, the noise amplified by the walls of the room encasing them in her grief like a tidal wave. “Your child needed you but you threw them away for a ghost! It’s your fault they’re in this situation to begin with – all because of that stupid spell you used. And you didn’t even have the decency to help them”

  “Please, falayha, I love you, I would burn the world just to keep you warm” Ragneth begged, her eyes pleading with the furious woman.

  Mrs Garrett’s voice was icy cold, devoid of all love for her partner. “Well, congratulations, Ragneth. You’ve just set my world on fire.” She didn’t scream any more, she didn’t even whisper.

  She just closed her mouth and stared.

  And Ragneth watched as the love for her turned to ash before her eyes.

  The Queen tilted her head butting into the argument before Ragneth could reply. “My, my. Is that another lie you’ve told me, Ragneth?” Her eyes narrowed, her eyes sharp enough to cut through steel and her voice was filled with venom. “If you weren’t so useful to me alive, you would have a bullet between your eyes as we speak” there was a heartbeat of silence before she lowered the pistol from Mrs Garrett’s skull, her tone almost light, breezy. “but I am nothing if not resourceful.”

  Nyxara clapped her hands together “I so do love watching people’s faces when they realise they have been betrayed by those they thought they could trust, and I just know this one will be extra...delicious.” a smirk jumping onto her features.

  With a lazy flick of her hand she gestured to the guards “Release my little pet, but keep a gun trained on Evalinena’s head from here on out.” she turned her attention back to the mage “I believe it’s time for a family outing, don’t you think?”

  Gliding out the room, Ragneth was forced to follow behind her like lost puppy, glancing back over her shoulder one last time at her wife, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces because the love she had yearned for. The love she had missed and dreamt about for so long was replaced by something she had hoped never to see.

  Resentment. Hard, cold and final.