Page 45 of Red Queen

Eight

Eleanna

Our steeds’ hooves pound against the frozen earth, sending up sprays of powdery snow that glitter beneath the moon’s unyielding gaze. I draw my cloak tighter around me, the chill air stinging any exposed skin. The night is alive with sounds as we drive our horses toward Ebonwood Forest, a looming silhouette like a jagged line against the starlit sky.

“Remember,” I say, “we need the phoenix’s tear at the first break of dawn. And I would rather not linger in that forest a moment longer than necessary.”

Alexandru rides beside me, his silver eyes reflecting the cold light like twin blades as he focuses on me. “Agreed, Eleanna.”

There’s no note of what happened between us. The things said. And I keep my own turmoil locked deep beneath my ice. Besides, this mission needs my attention.

Before we came a debate rose, but sometimes it’s good to be Queen. Even now, or perhaps because it’s his fortress, my word, if not law is close to it and carries weight.

“The sooner this is done, General,” I say, “the sooner Catarina is gone and the throne is mine as it is meant to be. Perhaps we need to pick up the pace.”

“Your impatience might cost us more than time, Eleanna. We push faster than we might make mistakes,” Ivan says, his voice steady despite our current pace. “Precision is key.”

“Precision?” Nadia says from behind. “From the man who’d sooner spill blood than a drop of wine?”

“Blood cleanses, wine merely stains.” Ivan’s mouth lifts in what might be considered a smile if one didn’t know better.

“Ah, but both are red, and both are precious,” Alexandru adds, his steely gaze fixed on the path ahead. “Let’s just hope this phoenix is more cooperative than some queens we know.”

“Careful, General,” I say, tightening my reins. “Or you’ll find out just how uncooperative I can be.”

And he speaks, so soft I might imagine it. “Promises.”

I shiver, my blood heating. But it doesn’t last as the entrance to Ebonwood comes into view, and we slow, a somberness falling over us. I take it in. The majestic pines loom overhead like the ribcage of a dark giant. Their twisted forms create menacing shadows that seem to slither across the ground.

Now my shiver is of ice and an urge hits me to turn back before it’s too late.

An urge set off by something magic, like a spell to protect this place. The air turns colder, carrying whispers that aren’t quite human, and a dense fog obscures the path ahead.

“Charming place,” Alexandru murmurs, scanning the darkened track snaking into the forest.

“Is it true what they say? That the trees whisper secrets of the dead?” Nadia asks, her horse sidestepping nervously.

“If they do, they’re quiet now,” Ivan says.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I swallow, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword, the familiar weight an accord of protection—or destruction, should the need arise.

“Secrets or no,” I say, “we’ve got a phoenix to find.”

“Then lead on, my fallen Queen.” Alexandru gives me a mock bow from atop his horse. “But remember, even the mightiest firebird bows before the break of day.”

Like anyone born of these lands, even those of us gifted with the immortality of the vampire, the old tales are embedded with me. But I don’t bother saying that.

With a slight nudge of my heel, I urge my horse forward into the forest’s embrace. “Mockery doesn’t become you, General Amanar, but perhaps today it will serve us well.”

The forest path twists before us, the underbrush rustling with the stir of nocturnal creatures. Alexandru’s steed keeps pace beside mine, the heat from his body an absolute contrast to the chill of the Ebonwood. I shouldn’t be able to feel that heat, but I do. His silver gaze finds mine, intense and questioning, as if he’s trying to unravel me like one would a riddle cloaked in shadow.

I meet his stare with equal measure, refusing to reveal the tumult that rages within. “Keep your eyes on the path, General. The forest has a taste for the unwary.”

“Ah, but it’s not the forest I’m wary of, Your Majesty,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk, his beauty shimmering in the moonlight.

Our horses’ hooves crunch on the frosted leaves as we navigate through the labyrinth of Ebonwood Forest’s foggy paths. Even with the regular forest sounds, it’s eerily quiet, as though they’ve been muted. An uneasy silence settles over us, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl.

Up ahead, something gleams, like two beacons in the fog and dark. I squint, and a figure begins to materialize from thedarkness, its form shrouded in gloom. It stands unmoving, eyes like twin embers set aflame.

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