The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(25)

Fire, come to me.

But this time, when it doesn’t come, I’m not even surprised. I claw for air, my arms extending through the top bars of my cage and waving just above the surface of the water. It’s so close. I jerk my face upward, colliding with bronze. I can see the dark shadows of the elders above me, their upheld torch, the moon that’s now visible through a hole in the clouds. The pain in my chest sparks and burns like smoldering charcoal, the hurt moving upward, consuming me. And yet the water stays cold, and so do I.

I’m going to die.

As soon as the thought comes, the rest of me rejects it with the force of a mighty storm. My body convulses, and I fight. Oh, stars, I fight so hard. I claw and kick and grasp and push and shake those bars with all my strength. I suck in a mouthful of water and my chest squeezes tight, my body twisting and writhing against the waters of the fearsome, relentless Motherlake.

This was what it was like for the Soturi invaders. This is how they perished.



“Have you ever killed someone?” I asked my Valtia. We were eating delicate sweet potato pastries, lying on her massive bed after a long day at the planting ceremony, watching our reflections in the hammered copper ceiling.

“Not yet,” she said. “But I probably will, someday.”

“You sound awfully sure.” And awfully calm. I’d just turned thirteen and was amazed by her serene beauty, her smooth surface. Envy filled me.

She took my hand, sending a pulse of ice along my palm. “I do what I need to, in service of the Kupari. Sometimes you are chosen, and sometimes you must choose. If I take a life, I won’t regret that choice. I’ll know it was to protect our people.” She turned her head and looked into my eyes. “And so will you, Elli, when the time comes. You’ll do what you need to do. Never doubt.”



Never doubt.

I rise from the water like a firebird from ash.

But not by magic.

As the elders swing me back over the deck, I vomit a bucketful of water onto their bald heads. Aleksi grunts with disgust. “That was hardly magical.”

I hear him like I’m still underwater. I’m made of ice. I’m bleeding. All they need to do is set me on fire, and I’d be complete: Blood. Copper. Ice. Fire. It is life.

And now I’ve learned it’s death, too.

With contempt etched onto his fleshy face, Aleksi unlocks the clasp on my cage and swings the door open. Kauko and Leevi pull me out. I’m still convulsing and coughing, shivering so violently that they can barely hold on to me. They set me heavily on the deck. I barely feel it. I sink deep inside the empty, gaping space inside me, drowning again, this time in defeat.

The elders talk quietly among themselves as they use their magic to propel the boat back to shore, but their words are carried away by the breeze and the splash of water against the hull. They help the acolytes carry me to the Saadella’s wing. I know I’m home when I hear Mim cry out. They set me on my bed, soaking my sheets with pink and red. Kauko sits down next to me and touches my shoulder.

“Did you read the stars wrong, Elder?” I whisper.

“No, child. You were the one it referred to. I am certain.”

“The prophecy, then—you said part of it was missing.”

“That is true.” For the first time, I hear anger in his voice. “We have priests scouring all our texts, trying to find hints of what it could have said. In the meantime . . .” His shoulders slump as he looks me over.

“I . . . I will go back in the copper trunk if you think it would help.” Even though the mere thought makes me shudder.

He shakes his head. “It’s not necessary now.”

I nearly choke as the tears come. “I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

His thick lips tremble. “There is one more trial,” he says, sorrow in his eyes. “One more trial, and we’re hoping this one will work.”

“Do it, then,” I croak. “I’m eager to face it.”

He squeezes my arm. “You’ll have to be very brave. But you are, aren’t you? We can all see that. Even Aleksi.”

What they can also see: my bravery is not enough. Not nearly enough.

“I’m courageous enough for one more trial.”

“I wish we didn’t have to ask these things of you, but I’m grateful you understand their necessity.” He bows his head. “Rest tonight. Look at the moon. The clouds are clearing.” His voice falters, and he clamps his lips shut for a few moments before continuing. “It is a sight to behold. Lovely, like you are. Then sleep, and may your dreams be peaceful. I will see you tomorrow.”

After he leaves, I squint at a small piece of sky through my open balcony doors. I can’t see the moon, but its reflection shines in the Motherlake. I drift outside myself, out of the temple, over the lake, and float toward that gorgeous orb. How heavenly. The weight of responsibility falls away. No one needs me anymore. No one even knows I’m gone. The sweetest sense of freedom envelops me, welcoming me into its embrace. It’s so nice, so peaceful. . . .

“Elli,” whispers Mim. “Wake up.”

She shakes me, and I groan. It’s hard to draw breath. I slip my hand under the loose collar of my gown. A length of gauzy fabric has been wrapped around my chest and back, binding my wounds. My hair is braided. My sheets are clean. I’m wearing a simple dress of brown wool, like the kind Mim wears every day. But it is still dark out, with no sign of the day to come.