Page 11 of Queen of the Wildwood
“Tell me why you are here.” The queen said. “I sensed your magic when you approached my kingdom, just as I sensed a disturbance outside of the forest, the night before last. You are brave to come here.”
She gave a cruel laugh which rankled my nerves. How I wished I had my magic.
I squared my shoulders and addressed a spot just above her shoulder. “My name is Yula. I come from the Sisters of the Light with a request. As we do every year, my people offer you gifts, and the Sisters of the Light perform a ritual to bind the evil of this forest. This year, the Sisters of the Light are not here for the blessed ritual, and since it is too late to train another sisterhood, I came to make a bargain. In exchange for mercy, and to keep the orc-kind and other creatures of the forest from destroying my people, I would like to make a deal with you.”
The queen cocked her head. “You came to me. To make a deal? Oh, the irony of it.” She cackled. “The Sisters of the Light taught you nothing. Haven't you been warned? I do not respect the wishes of mortals. I do not make bargains.”
The tree hurt my heart, and its cry made me feel dizzy.
The queen stood tall and started down the stairs which were nothing more than contorted tree branches. As she neared, horns appeared on her head, gnarled and curved.
I swallowed hard; my tongue thick.“Have you not made bargains with others in the past? People who now serve you?” I dared ask.
Those voluptuous red lips curved upward, and I could not help but glance at the dark sockets of her evil eyes.
She sashayed toward me. My feet involuntarily backed away toward the doors.
“As you said,” she replied. “In the past. I no longer make bargains, for they tend to be more work than they are worth. If you have something that is worthy of my time, come out with it now. I know you decimated the temple and the Sisters of the Light, and there will be reparations. You took power, magic, from me and think you can stroll into my kingdom and ask for a blessing. There shall be no deal with you. You have a penance to pay.”
I licked my dry lips and took another step back. My fingers shook as they met the cold iron of the doors. I almost tripped over my own two feet as the queen strode toward me. She towered above me, much larger than she'd appeared on the throne. The strength in her arms looked devastating.
She knew what I’d done. She saw my guilt as though it were a rune, inked on my forehead. Quickly, I racked my brain for words, desperate to say something that would please her. “I have magic, and I know the rituals. I can convince others to make you happy. I can rebuild and train new sisters how to satisfy your demands for magic.”
The queen smiled, and something dark glittered like a struggling light in her eyes. “Magic,” she said, her voice soft as she trailed a sharp fingernail down my cheek. “You think I have no others to serve me in this way?”
A warm trickle of freshly drawn blood streaked down my face. The Dark Queen leaned forward, as if to kiss me, but instead that forked tongue lashed out, tasting the rivulet now staining my cheek.
She gripped my chin hard and stared into my eyes, a drop of my blood pearled on her lip. “The magic of your sisters fed me, and I offered my protection in return. But now, days before Mabon,youdestroyed them,youfailed me. Don’t you realize that I exist off such magic?” She leaned close again, her breath fetid. “I can feed off other things as well, though. The soul of a tree. The spirits of the elements.” Her gaze darted to my cheek. “Even the blood of a mage.”
I reared back in an attempt to move further away from her, but the doors were behind me, and the dark queen slithered closer. Her hands rested on my shoulders. Nails bit through the clean shirt I wore and there was nowhere for me to look but up into her fearsome face.
Vomit boiled in my belly. This had all been for naught. She would not let me save my village. I had sealed their doom by losing control of my magic. I saw it clearly now. I’d weakened her, and she was furious. Revenge burned in her dark eyes.
Sharp nails ripped through my shirt, and the hardness of the iron gate burned cold on my bare back. My hands came up, clutching the shirt over my chest, and my eyes went wide. I blinked hard to keep the tears at bay. How could this be happening again? Every time I tried to rise strong, I was taken and humiliated.
My thoughts drifted back to what had started this—the strike of the Head Mistress’ rod on my back—and rage welled out of me. Memories went back further to the persecution I suffered when I was young, because I was odd. My skin was dark and my eyes wild, a strong indication I was not like the others. I recalled the screams and cries of the children when my anger came out, broken limbs and blood, so much blood. They had all lived although it took some time for them to mend, but my parents were shunned and forced away, because of my magic. Determined not to fall prey to the orcs, they moved to another village. I discovered it was because of the Sisters of the Light. Against my will, they forced me to bend to those who held magic, who were stronger than me, and could teach me to use it for good, instead of hurting others.
But the rage came up again and again, manifesting in a windstorm. I heard what they whispered about me when they thought I was out of hearing. I knew what they thought. I was a cursed one with magic stronger than even the Head Mistress. They believed one day a great evil would befall them, because my dark soul called out to it, like seeking like, darkness calling darkness.
And they were right. So why should I try to save the village? Every time I tried to change my ways, to save something, anything, it failed. Why should this time be any different?
My knees gave way as The Dark Queen’s nails dug into me like knives and ripped the tender skin of my back. My body shook with spasms, and only when I cowered on the ground, in a pool of tattered rags, did she step away.
I shuddered and swallowed a sob, keeping my head bent while my hair curtained around me. Trails of blood flowered down my back, and when a finger touched one of my open wounds, I gave a sharp hiss.
The Dark Queen knelt in front of me and fisted a clump of my hair in her hand, forcing me to raise my head. Her forked tongue came out and licked the blood off her fingertip. Eyes flashing, she laughed. A deep, rough, evil sound that made my skin go cold. This was the end, wasn't it? She would kill me, for I did not have the strength or magic to fight her.
“I sense defiance in your nature,” the queen said, malice dripping from her lips.
She jerked the roots of my hair harder, forcing a wince out of me. My shoulders came down and rage rose in my throat.
“Defiance will not save you, but your magic is dangerous, strong, something I can mold for myself. I shall truly enjoy draining it from you.” She smirked. “It is fortuitous you came to me. I must thank you for giving me the opportunity to teach him a lesson.”
Him? A heaviness came over me. Who was she punishing?
“He led you here, didn’t he? Despite his conflicted heart. You wear his clothes which carry his scent which means you dared to tryst with one of my knights. It will not be forgiven. Ending your life will serve as a reminder for him of what it means to serve me.”
My soul wilted in defeat. Despite everything, the consequences of my magic still followed me. I pressed my hand to my mouth to keep the sob from escaping my throat.
