I dangle the tooth over the writhing fire, watching as the woman’s jaw twitches in response. Her hard demeanor shatters.
“Please don’t do this,” the woman pleads. “Please, give me another chance.”
My own jaw twitches too, though unlike hers, mine’s from annoyance. I hate being made the villain, especially in front of a crowd. “I asked for your name.”
“Riley,” she says. “It’s Riley Pierce.”
“Riley Pierce, as the Queen of Visidia, it’s my job to keep the kingdom safe. Your soul is a blight; it’s grown corrupted from your crimes, and the people of Visidia have chosen execution as your punishment. If you have any last words, say them now.”
She drops her head, shoulders shaking as I press my palm against them, keeping her on her knees should she try anything.
When she raises her chin again, there’s ice in her eyes. “I hope that you burn.”
They’re words that jolt my mind back two seasons prior, and I think of Father’s lifeless corpse burning in a sea of fire, skin charring and melting from his bones. His blood pooling and boiling around him, turning to tar. I sway as the walls of the prison close in and force myself to draw a deep breath through my nose to steady myself.
Not right now. Not right here. The memories can haunt me later, as they do every time I shut my eyes. But right now, I must maintain my composure.
“One day,” I tell the prisoner, “I’m sure that I will.”
Riley’s eyes flicker to me, confused, but my only response is to drop the tooth wound with her hair into the flame. Her body spasms as blood pools from her gums, staining her teeth and spilling down her lips. I bend to run my finger over it, coating my skin, then smear the blood over two bones—one from a human spine, and another small shard of a skull.
Taking only the briefest moment, I turn to look back at the advisers’ faces. Lord Garrison has gone bone white, while Lord Freebourne’s dark brows furrow as though he’s unsure whether to be appalled or intrigued.
I drop the bloodied bones into the fire, and as they crackle the woman falls. Her spine twists sharply and her skull caves in. She takes one surprised gasp of air before she shudders to the ground, dead.
Death by my hand is never painless—I don’t have the luxury of giving people that—but it can certainly be quick.
With Riley’s limp body before me, I turn to the advisers to see that Lord Garrison has turned away. It’s clear any doubts he had about my magic are gone; I’ve given him what he wanted, yet he didn’t even have the stomach to watch.
“Casem, you stay. The rest of you, there’s no need to torture yourselves.” I crouch before Riley’s body, setting my hand upon the sheath of my steel dagger. “Unless you want to watch me drain the bodies and harvest their bones, take your leave. I’ll handle the rest of the prisoners alone.”
Relief floods from Lord Garrison in waves that knot my stomach. Though Lord Freebourne hesitates, seeming half-inclined to stay, both men eventually nod and take their leave without protest. The guards are quick to follow, handing Casem the copper key ring so that I may finish my work in peace. This wasn’t even my true magic, and still it disgusts them.
“Lord Garrison?” I call as he’s nearly out the door.
Sheet white as he fights against shaking hands, he turns to me, unable to look me in the eye. “Your Majesty?”
“Should I hear even a whisper about my magic, especially from the mouth of a Suntosan, I’ll have you to take it up with.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” And then he’s gone.
Casem stands with his hands folded behind him, gaze firmly on the ground. Only when we can no longer hear the footsteps of the others does he exhale a tightly held breath.
“Blood of the gods, I can’t believe you pulled that off.”
“It’s not over, yet.” I untie the binds on Riley’s wrists and turn her so that she’s no longer lying face-first on the grimy floor, but with the back of her head on my lap. “Go and guard the perimeter.”
Casem moves to obey, but something stops him mid-step. Quietly, he whispers, “You don’t have to do the rest of this, you know. We can find another way.”
“There is no other way.” As much as I want to believe those words, they’re a lie. This is my duty, just as Lord Garrison said earlier. And if I can’t even do this—something I’ve trained for my entire life, something my people believe to be an act of protection—why do I still wear this crown? “Make sure no one enters.”
Though he waits a beat too long, Casem bows his head and excuses himself. Only when he’s gone do I take Riley’s face in my hands and squeeze her cheeks.
“Nice show,” I tell her. “Now get up, we need to move quickly.”
She stirs, the blond of her hair slowly melting into a soft pastel pink. The lilac tattoo on her wrist wriggles and melts back into her skin. The woman opens eyes that are no longer hazel, but a startling, magical ruby, and it’s Shanty who beams at me.
She’s a face-shifter from Ikae who we met on our journey last summer. She helped disguise us long enough to escape off the island, and was the one to tell us where to find Vataea.
Her teeth are stained red, and with the back of her hand she wipes blood from her lips and peels back a tiny, empty pouch of pig’s blood from the top of her gums.
“For future reference, this stuff is revolting.” She spits it on the floor with a grimace. “You owe me big-time.”
The yells of the prisoners who wait behind her are muffled by their gags as Shanty’s enchantment wears off. The rest of them, unfortunately, are real. And the one Shanty was doubling for waits in the lineup, her own face altered with enchantment magic.
Shanty takes my offered hand and pops onto her feet, brushing dirt from her cream tunic and linen lilac pants.
“They believed it.” Relief fills me when I say it aloud, settling the nerves that turned my skin to gooseflesh. The relief nearly makes me laugh. “They fell for it completely. You were amazing.”
She bats a baby-pink curl from her shoulder and smiles with lips red as rubies. “Did you ever doubt me?” Her voice is a proud purr.
Though I was hesitant to add to the list of people who know I’m unable to access my magic, hiring Shanty was a necessity. She’s been here on Arida since the fall, likely living with a new face every day. It was Ferrick’s idea to invite her here, and to keep her secret, just in case we needed her skills. Few people know she’s here on Arida.
It was a good call. As fragile as Visidia is right now, ensuring that my people still believe they’re protected by a powerful animancer is necessary. It’s as Lord Garrison said—sometimes we must distract our people from the truth long enough to get the job done.
“Have Casem help you get out of here,” I tell her. “And make sure you’re not seen.”
“Like I’d be caught before I collected payment,” Shanty muses. “Staying hidden is my specialty, Your Majesty. I’ll see you on the other side.”
She gives a tiny salute, leaving me to focus instead on the five real prisoners before me. At my side rests two daggers—Rukan, the blade I forged from the poisoned tentacle of the Lusca, a sea beast I bested last summer, and the steel blade I’ve had since Father gifted it to me in this prison thirteen years ago. That’s the one whose hilt I take now, clutching it tightly as I crouch before the first prisoner I’m to execute. The man lifts his eyes to me as I tear off his gags, assessing my crown.