7

SO THIS WAS NINEVEH.

Nat had never met the ruler of Vallonis, not in all the months she lived in the Blue. Faix had been bringing her to Apis, to meet the Queen, when Nat abandoned her training to try to save her friends. She was awestruck and overwhelmed and, for a moment, relieved. Someone was here to help, someone was here to save them. The Queen had arrived, and they would be safe. Nat never realized how much she needed that until now. She never thought of herself as anyone who needed rescue, but the Queen’s presence stilled her fear. Nineveh was not just the Queen of Vallonis; to Nat, she was the living embodiment of it—pure, sacred, incorruptible magic.

She breathed deeply. They were not alone in the their fight. Help had come. She looked to Wes, expecting to see relief, but his face was pale, his eyes uncertain.

“What is it?” she asked.

Wes was moving along the wall, one step, then another, retreating into the smoky haze, away from the lady in white. He shared none of Nat’s relief, not a bit of her excitement.

“What’s going on?” she asked, raising her voice a little. They should be greeting the Queen, exchanging pleasantries and titles, or whatever you did when you met your sovereign. Nat didn’t know. But Wes looked like he wanted to run. And Nat wasn’t sure what she felt. Something was definitely wrong. Nineveh stood twenty or thirty feet away. She was coming closer and Wes was backing away from her.

“Nat,” he whispered, urging her to join him.

She went to his side, a bit reluctantly. The smoke enveloped them, making it seem as if the two of them were alone.

“I don’t know about this,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, startled that he did not feel the same as she did. Of course Wes would be wary, he was only being cautious, but she had to convince him otherwise. Nineveh was only here to help, Nat was sure of it. So what was wrong with Wes? She gestured to the battle that raged on every side of them, the sound of bombs echoing all over the city. “Look around you. This is our only way out.”

“Yeah, but I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling about this,” Wes said. He chewed his lip, his eyes flickering back in the direction of the Queen of Vallonis. She approached, greeting the others in their crew. Liannan was kneeling already. “I mean, it’s hard to explain, but I know she used her connection to me to get here, and my gut says something’s up.”

Nat silently absorbed this information. She had a feeling Wes wanted to say more, so she held her tongue and her arguments for now.

Wes sighed and scratched the scar on his face. “The Queen—whoever she is—I’ve met her before . . . I’m pretty sure she was the one who stole Eliza. She took her, that night.”

He was confirming what she already knew, that Eliza had been taken by the rulers of Vallonis. Nat recalled Eliza’s bitterness toward Faix in the White Temple, her disdain for him and the Queen. I called them Mother and Father, Eliza had said.

“Nineveh took your sister because she thought your sister was the one who could help them break the spell and cast a new one,” said Nat. “And when Eliza realized she wasn’t the one, she turned against them.”

“It still wasn’t right, what she did. She shouldn’t have taken Eliza away. My whole life, I was haunted by her voice, her face, what happened that night. And then, just now, when I was dead, or when I thought I was—when I was lying next to you on the deck of that ferry—I heard her voice in my head again. This time, she said that she’d made a mistake. I think I was the one she wanted all along.”

“Because you are the true child of Vallonis,” Nat said. She had seen the strength of his power, how he had been able to defeat Eliza and her illusions. His ability to dispel magic was a powerful gift.

“Whatever I am, I don’t know what she wants from me now. Why she’s here. And I’m not sure we should do what she wants us to.”

His face was so anguished that Nat was torn. She didn’t want to doubt the Queen’s intentions, but she didn’t want to dismiss Wes’s wariness either.

The Queen had her reasons for stealing Eliza Wesson—her actions had broken a family and jeopardized the fate of the entire world—but was that Nineveh’s fault? And what if Nineveh was only here to fix what was broken? Now that the Queen knew Wes was the child she had sought all along, didn’t it follow that she would act on it?

Nat had to make Wes understand. Nineveh was on their side, she wanted what they wanted—to make things right.

The crew jostled them. “Come on, man, there’s no way out of here but through there,” said Shakes, pointing to the portal. “What are we waiting for? We need to get these people and our butts out of here.”

The Queen waited at the portal, gesturing for all of them to approach.

Liannan was already at the entrance, but she hesitated, looking back at Wes and Nat. She was the Queen’s subject, but she was also one of their team now. She put a hand on Shakes’s arm to tell him to wait. They would do what Wes told them to.

“Something’s off,” Wes said abruptly. “I don’t think we should go. We’ll find another way.”

The smallmen looked longingly at the open portal. All around them was smoke and death, but through the portal they could see blue skies and peaceful vistas. Roark could barely see through one swollen eye. Brendon had a massive bruise on his forehead. “Whatever you say, boss,” he said. Roark nodded.

Nat admired their loyalty, but she had to make them see what was right in front of them. Hope. Refuge. Safety. “If we don’t go with her, where will we go?” she asked Wes.

“We could try the mountains,” he said. “The original plan. Find another boat, get out of here, get back home.”

Home? Oh, he meant New Vegas. But Vallonis was her home, and home was so very close right now.

“If we go through the mountains, not all of us will survive,” she said, meaning the remaining prisoners. “We’re risking everyone’s lives.”

Nobody argued with her, not even Wes, because she was right.

Nat weighed the options in front of them, knowing a fresh band of attackers were sure to appear at any moment. New Kandy was burning; she could taste the grease and the gunpowder. Every part of her body ached. She trusted Wes, but he didn’t know the workings of the Blue.

She placed a hand on his cheek, looked deep into his eyes. “Vallonis will protect us—and these prisoners.” She motioned to the ragged collection of survivors still following them. “She is their Queen. These are her people. She’s here for them.”

Wes placed his hand on hers and squeezed. But then he pulled away, ran his fingers through his messy hair, and shook his head. “I just don’t trust her,” he said. “I can’t.”

Nat turned to look back at Nineveh. The Queen of Vallonis, who stood in front of the only escape plan available to them, Nineveh, the lady in white, who had appeared at their darkest hour, a savior, a beacon, who offered refuge.

To Wes, Nineveh was an enemy, a stranger. He was right to question her motives because of what happened in the past, but Nineveh was Faix’s Queen, and Faix had been her friend and mentor. The one who had taught her how to control her power, the one who had taught her the mysteries of magic. Nat would put her trust in Faix, and in her faith in Vallonis.

So she turned once more to the boy she loved, the one from whom she drew her strength, the one with doubt in his eyes. “I can handle her. You don’t have to trust her. Trust me.”

Wes took a deep breath.

She knew he trusted her with his crew, with his heart, with his life. She had to make him understand this was their only way out. It was time to go, no time to hesitate. They would handle whatever came after, if she was wrong about this. But she wasn’t wrong.

“Trust me,” she repeated.

Wes rubbed his eyes with his fists. When he put his hands away, she saw that they were still red. “I do trust you. Always.” He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Nat inhaled sharply, relieved that it would soon be over. Soon, they would be back in Vallonis, away from this carnage.

Wes took her hand and together they walked to the portal. Through the smoke they went, hurrying as best they could. The doorway to Vallonis looked bigger than it had from a distance. It made a sound like a hurricane that made it hard to speak, hard to think. The Queen waited at the base of the portal, silent, unmoving. Wes came closer.

He turned toward Nineveh and gave her the slightest nod.

The Queen gestured to the entrance with one delicate, white-sleeved arm, and moved aside. It was all so strange, almost like a dream. She was just standing there, silent as marble, gesturing to the doorway.

With a flash of light and a great roar, the first of the marked prisoners walked through the portal, and disappeared into Vallonis. Liannan stood at the door, frantically calling for them to hurry through it. There had been hundreds in the White Temple, but there were only a handful of survivors now. They gawked at Nineveh and hurried past. The Queen kept her chin raised high. When they were all safe, Liannan followed, Shakes at her side. The smallmen were next.

Nat stood at the portal’s edge. Warm air kissed her face, the scent of orange and jasmine heady and sweet. She couldn’t wait to go home. She couldn’t wait for this bleak chapter in their life to be over.

Wes tugged her coat. “Come on,” he said, anxiously looking over his shoulder at the tanks that were headed their way.

“You first,” she said. She was the drakonrydder of Vallonis; she would be last to leave.

He reached for her hand. “We’ll go together.”

They turned to the portal, but the Queen stopped them, moving with unnatural speed to block their path. “She cannot pass,” said Nineveh, pointing at Nat. Her face was as cold as the words she had spoken. “She stays behind.”

“Me?” asked Nat, not quite believing what she was hearing. She stared right at the Queen, but it was as if Nineveh did not see her; the Queen’s gaze pierced right through Nat. “But why?”

The Queen addressed Wes, as if she were loath to speak directly to Nat. “She is not welcome in Vallonis.”

Wes was right, Nat thought. Something is wrong with the Queen. Something is wrong—and a terrible thought occurred to her. What if the something that was wrong—was Nat herself? What did the Queen know? Why did she refuse her entrance?

Nat looked at Wes, suddenly fearful, but the doubt in his eyes was completely gone now, replaced by a calm decisiveness. “I’m not leaving her,” he told the Queen. “She comes with me. She’s with us.”

He tilted his chin at the Queen. “Move it.”

Nineveh remained where she was, implacable, unruffled. “The girl stays behind.”

“Wes . . . ,” said Nat hesitantly. “Maybe I should . . .”

“I said, move,” Wes repeated, his hand still holding Nat’s. He squeezed it to assure her he wouldn’t leave her, but Nat wanted to tell him that maybe they were in the wrong. Maybe they should listen to Nineveh. If the Queen didn’t want her in Vallonis, there had to be a reason. Nat felt she had to do something, because Wes looked like he was going to throttle the Queen, no matter how powerful her magic might be.

There were only the three of them left, and the ground shook from another explosion. “Look, this is no time to argue! Let us through!” She could hear the roar of the drones above, the sound of more tanks headed their way. When she arrived, Nineveh had pushed back the soldiers, she’d cleared a path for everyone to enter the portal, but now the soldiers had returned.

“Move! I’m not leaving her!” Wes yelled. Nat knew what he was thinking. Their friends were already across the portal, and there was no other way out of the burning city. The clop of heavy boots striking concrete echoed all around them. A soldier shouted orders in the distance.

“She is forbidden to enter,” Nineveh said.

But I am the Protector of Vallonis, thought Nat.

This time, the Queen looked directly at Nat, her ice-blue eyes boring into Nat’s green ones. Her voice was cold as the air around them. Colder. “Vallonis has no protector. Only a pretender.”

The words stung and found their mark. Nat stared at the Queen in disbelief. But in an instant, she understood why she was cast out. She saw the grief on the Queen’s face. It hung there, heavy and motionless, like a death mask. She might as well have been carved of ceremonial clay.

Of course. A death mask. That’s exactly what it is. It’s Faix.

Nat had brought death to Faix, the Queen’s consort. She blamed Nat for his death. The loss had crushed Nat herself, leaving her empty and lost. She could only imagine what it had been like for the Queen.

“Go,” Nat told Wes, pulling him aside to beseech him to save himself at least. “Leave me. I don’t belong there. I know why she doesn’t want me. Because of Faix, because Faix is dead, and it’s all my fault.”

“No! I’m not going without you. Never.” He tightened his grip on her hand. There were soldiers in the street, coming closer. “What happened to Faix wasn’t your fault. He knew the risks, he knew what Eliza had become, and he went to her freely. Faix gave his life for yours. He wouldn’t want this.”

“Let him go,” said the Queen, her cold gaze resting upon Nat once more.

Nat winced as she heard the Queen’s cold voice in her head.

Let the boy go.

You will kill them all.

You will bring death to everyone around you, death to all whom you love.

If you stay with him, you will destroy him.

Nat squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t keep from hearing the truth in Nineveh’s words. She was no protector. She couldn’t protect her friends. She couldn’t save Faix, couldn’t do anything while Farouk was decimated right in front of her.

How many more would die from her mistakes?

Nat pulled her hand away from Wes’s and moved away from the portal. “You should go. The crew—they need you. I can take care of myself, you know I can. Don’t worry about me. I’ll meet you on the other side.” But the other side of what? How would Wes find her? She knew that the odds were against her, that without her drakon and their crew she would never make it out of New Kandy and that she would never see him again.

She also knew she couldn’t let him stay.

A soldier’s voice shot through the air. “You there, you three. Put your hands up.” Someone was telling them to surrender. It was time to make a decision, to stay or to go.

If he stayed here with her, he’d die, too—and that would be worse than her own death. Seeing him almost die in her arms today had only made her more certain. He had to go.

And she had to say something to make him move. “I’ll find you, I swear I will.”