The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(37)

Like the stars foretold. “How do you know?”

“Because if she wasn’t, the cosmos wouldn’t have created you to keep the balance.”

“But the Valtia is balance.” This is a truth embedded in my bones.

His eyes meet mine. “Not this time.”

“How do you know so much?” The elders and priests guard their knowledge closely, which has always been incredibly frustrating. And Sofia once told me that most citizens have only the barest understanding of the magic, which makes sense, since the children who reveal themselves as able to wield it are taken to the temple as soon as they’re discovered. Except for this man, apparently. Which could mean only one thing.

“Were you a priest?”

His smile glistens in the flickering firelight. “Not during your lifetime.”

It’s not a denial. “Why did you leave?”

One of his bushy eyebrows twitches like a living thing. “Let’s just say I found my fellow priests to be a bit bloodthirsty.” He takes my ruined hand and lays it on a clean scrap of brown wool. “This is still oozing. I’m going to have to cauterize it.”

I shiver. “You said fire wouldn’t affect me.”

“I said magic wouldn’t affect you. Ordinary flames made from ordinary fuel are a different matter entirely.” He moves close to the fire. I hear the clang of metal. My stomach clenches.

“What will happen if it’s not cauterized?”

“You’ll bleed to death. Or possibly die of blood poisoning.”

Neither of those sounds terrible at the moment. Perhaps Raimo senses my thoughts, because he looks over his shoulder at me. “You were raised as the Saadella, were you not?”

“I was,” I whisper.

“So you were brought up with the understanding that you exist to serve the Kupari.”

I look away from his gaze.

“Nothing has changed,” he says, his voice right next to my ear. His hand clamps over my wrist. I feel a flash of heat and then a pain so bright that it lights me up, arches me back, fills the cave with the scent of my burning flesh and the sound of my hoarse screams. White flames burst before my eyes, and I pray to the stars for release that doesn’t come. By the time he’s finished, I’m wishing for death, but he reminds me over and over of my purpose, of my duty, awakening all my memories of my lessons from the elders. My life is not my own. My body belongs to the people. My magic is for them, not for me. Magic. Magic.

If I could laugh, I would. Raimo is so wrong. Everything has changed.



I wake with a jolt, tightly encased up to my neck, warm and unable to move. My body feels like it weighs a hundred stone. My eyelids are too heavy to lift. But my ears work perfectly, and now I hear what wrenched me from the void: arguing.

“Why didn’t you just do it while she was asleep then?” It’s Oskar, his deep voice as sharp as the blades that hang from his belt.

“You would have me violate the wishes of a young woman simply because she’s vulnerable enough for me to force my will upon her?” Raimo asks. His voice is full of teasing amusement. “My dear boy, I never thought I’d hear such a suggestion from you.”

Oskar makes a growling sound of pure frustration. “If her wishes were the product of a bigoted, fever-addled brain, then—”

“Oh, she was quite lucid. Her desires were perfectly clear. No magic. Only the ordinary means of healing.”

I never said that, did I?

“Did you explain that she could have been well by now? Did she understand that those ‘ordinary means’ would amount to days of pain and—”

“Give me some credit. She’s stubborn as a stump.” Raimo’s voice rises in quavering, high-pitched imitation. “?‘Don’t come near me with that sorcery! I won’t have it!’?” He cackles.

Oskar sighs. “If I’d known she felt that way . . .”

“You’d still have brought her here. And you did the right thing. She’s already better. The fever has broken. She’s going to live, and we should all be thankful for that.”

“And her hand?”

“No more bleeding and no signs of rot or blood poisoning so far. She probably won’t lose it. But she’ll be in pain.”

The scrape of boots against stone tells me Oskar has moved closer to my resting place. If I had the strength to move or speak, I would greet him. I have the oddest desire to see his face again.

“Will she be able to fend for herself?” he asks.

“Eventually. Until then, you’ll fend for her.”

“What?” Oskar’s voice bleeds with shock. “The weather is colder every day, old man. I have to—”

“You have to do what I say. She’ll need protection until the spring if she is to survive. I can heal her wounds, but I can’t keep her belly full or look after her safety.”

“But winter. Thus far, there’s no warmth from the temple, and for all we know, it’s not coming. Right now I’m the absolute worst person to help her.”

Raimo chuckles. “Oh, son, I couldn’t disagree more. And if you do it, I’ll release you from your promise until the spring thaw. As it turns out, we can’t wait longer than that.”

Oskar is silent for a long moment. “I’ll have to talk to Mother. And Freya.” He sounds like he dreads the idea.