Page 33 of The Faceless Queen

“You think I stumbled upon you by accident in the middle of Kalder on a random spring night? My timing at the lake tonight was perfect. Of course, I knew.”

Nausea burned low in my belly. “What is she going to do with me?” I asked. My voice was shaking again. What punishment could she offer to me that I didn’t already feel inside myself? That I hadn’t tortured myself with when I was alone at night.

We didn’t have boxings in Azeal. But I’d heard of far worse punishments—the kind that left your mind ruined but your body intact, all so you could continue to endure the torture for years and years to come.

“She wants to talk to you,” he said, sounding almost nonchalant.

“Right, sure. She sent you to find me after all this time—just to talk to me.” I practically spat, but it was all I could do to keep from panicking, to keep myself distracted from the rapid racing of my heart.

I wanted to ask him more. But I knew I’d get no answers. He always spoke like this, infuriating, in riddles. Yet he drew the edge of his cloak over my shoulders, offering to share some of his warmth.

I didn’t want it. Not from the Hermit.

But I was cold–so cold, and drained. I said nothing, but I welcomed the warmth, keeping my body as close to his as I dared.

After that, we flew in silence, passing over endless swaths of trees. When the sky lightened on the horizon, just enough to suggest sunrise was approaching, I couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t stop my mind from spinning.

“How much further?” I asked. Beyond losing my magic, beyond the twisting in my gut from the starving Azete, I was simply exhausted. I’d run for miles, swam to the bottom of a lake, and battled two chimera without rest.

“Not far. We’re here,” he said. “Look.”

Erys cleared the edge of Kalder Forest, taking us over the expanse of the wilds. The lands that lay before our border. It was where the chimera roamed free. Once, the fields had been lush and fertile. But now they’d been overrun with beasts and failing crops.

Tall stone walls, over twenty feet high, had been erected around the country to protect the witches from such threats. They were still being built when I was a girl, when the danger of the chimera was growing, only just beginning to reach our doors. The stonework had completed, sealing the country within its walls, just before I left.

I could make out a glimpse of the rooftops beyond, and atop the hill in the country’s center, my home. The castle. The seat of House Zakros, the royal house of the witches. Small flags carrying the sigil waved in the breeze. Witchmoth wings surrounding a full moon. It was exactly as I remembered it. And yet, I felt like a stranger coming upon a foreign land.

Several witches guarding the wall came into view, little more than shadowy silhouettes in the dark, each one holding a stave with a faintly glowing moonstone at the top.

I sucked in a breath, expecting Erys to fly lower, for the Hermit to announce himself to the guards, to reveal me. Announce me as his prisoner. The killer of the last queen.

I could still see the accusation in their eyes. In my aunt’s. The hatred and disdain—I’d seen it for years before I left. I braced myself for the shame and humiliation I knew would follow.

But the Hermit gathered his cloak, shoving it over my head, blanketing me completely.

Well, now I was as invisible as I felt.

Peering through the fabric, I watched as he was waved over the wall without a word. And to my shock, Erys continued flying straight over Azeal, toward the castle.

The Hermit directed the witchmoth to the south side, to the Princess’s Tower. My old tower.

“What are we doing?” I asked, but Erys was heading straight for an open window.

I ducked just as Erys flew through inside, and lay down on the ground, his wings spread wide so we could descend.

“Finally,” the Hermit muttered, pulled his cloak from my head, and lifted me to my feet and onto the castle’s stone floor. The tower walls smelled musty, like the entire structure had gone into disuse while I was away.

And yet, beneath the must, I recognized the familiar scents that had been there when I was a girl. The roses from the castle grounds. The burned incense which had become a smoky fixture within the walls.

“What is this?” I asked, my voice small, weighed down by memories of nights in these very halls. “What are we doing here?”

“The Princess’s Tower? This was your domain, was it not?”

I nodded. “Yes, but⁠—”

“But what?” he asked. “I’m taking you to your room. Did you think you were in any condition to speak to your aunt at this hour? It’s nearly dawn, and the Queen has a full day of court to prepare for. What she needs to discuss with you requires patience. And for your mind to be fully functioning and awake.”

I shook my head. “Why not just have her yell and send me to the dungeons?” I tried to wriggle my shoulders, since my hands were still bound. It was all becoming too much. The sounds. The smells. Things I hadn’t experienced, hadn’t remembered since…since my mother died. I felt like I was going to be sick.