The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(53)
“That’s him!” Freya squeals. “Sig’s come back!”
CHAPTER 13
My stomach goes tight as we approach the crowd and I hear Sig say, “Now is the time to go on the offensive! This is an opportunity.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s joking.
The people around him grumble. “Winter’s on us,” one man shouts. “We’re better served by making sure our food stores last until spring!”
Sig smiles, and his dark eyes seem to glow. “But you could spend the rest of your winter in the temple,” he says to the man, his voice smooth like melted copper. “I’ve spent the last few weeks exploring the city, listening to the rumors. I’m telling you, there’s food aplenty in the Temple on the Rock.”
“But what you’re suggesting is suicide!” cries Josefina at the back. “The Valtia would crush us—with the priests at her side.”
Sig shakes his head, that confident grin still gleaming. “If there were a Valtia, perhaps. But where is she? Why hasn’t she shown herself? Our winter warmth is nowhere to be found. The temple has been locked up tight since the day after the Valtia died, but the priests still come out every day to look for the Saadella. The elders are publicly saying the new Valtia is in mourning, but the streets are flowing with rumors that she’s gone mad and run away.”
“You’re willing to bet your life that the priests are lying?” Senja asks.
I’m not imagining it—his eyes really are glowing. The dark pupils flicker with the flames inside. “I am,” he says. “Who’s with me?”
“There aren’t enough of us,” says Aira, standing right at the front. “The temple is full of trained wielders. We should gather more before we even consider entering the city as a group, let alone trying to take the temple.”
My mouth drops open. Apart from the elders, there are thirty priests, thirty apprentices, and a legion of acolytes within the temple, all willing to defend it to the death. “You’re woefully outnumbered,” I blurt out.
I cringe as Sig’s head snaps in my direction, looking for the person who made the comment. I don’t breathe again until his gaze passes over me. “Maybe there are more of them than us, but the priests are lazy and soft,” Sig says after a few tense seconds.
He raises his arms and twin balls of fire appear and hover over his palms. There’s a murmur of admiration from the crowd. “They’re too used to luxury to challenge people who have known true hardship.” He brings his arms down and the flames shoot from his hands, right into the large fire where the men gather to play cards. It sends sparks flying into the air, and one little girl screams. I gape—I have never seen anyone but the Valtia conjure fire from nothing.
Another young man steps up onto the hearth, one I haven’t seen before today. He’s wearing a light summer tunic and has long, reddish-blond hair tied back in a messy tail. “I agree with Sig that this is the best time to take action,” he says, and as soon as I hear his deep, buzzing voice, I recognize it from that first day outside the cave—he’s the one Oskar called Jouni. He nervously rubs his palms on his trousers and grins when Sig nods with approval. “We haven’t had the first snow yet, so I think we should—”
“The first snow is coming tonight,” says a low, gruff voice behind us. Oskar’s near our shelter with a full game bag. He’s got his heavy fur cloak on, with the hood pulled over his hair. But I can see his eyes, granite and hard, as he comes toward the crowd and ends up next to me and Freya.
He pushes his hood back from his face and looks at the group around Sig and Jouni. “It’s going to be several inches at least.” His gaze finds Jouni’s. “So what were you about to propose?”
Jouni looks crestfallen. “Never mind,” he mumbles.
Sig, on the other hand, looks disgusted. His full lips twist into a sneer. “Scared of a little snowstorm, Oskar?”
Oskar arches an eyebrow. “I’m more worried about the storm of stupidity that’s brewing right in front of me.”
There’s an audible gasp within the knot of people around Sig, whose jaw clenches as he steps down from the hearth and begins to come through the crowd. I stagger back and bump into Oskar, who clamps his hand over my shoulder and moves me to one side, out of Sig’s path. As Sig draws near, I catch his scent, smoke and a strange metallic tang, like the smells that come from a forge.
“Just because the miners haven’t come out here yet doesn’t mean they won’t,” he says. “They know these caverns are full of copper they could mine to trade for food with the south.”
I glance over to see Ismael looking at me, perhaps wondering if I’m going to blurt what I know yet again. This time, I stay silent. I don’t want to give Sig any more reason to attack the town or the temple—but it seems he already has all the reasons he needs.
“When things get desperate enough, the miners will return, with constables and maybe priests.” Sig’s voice is quiet even though he stands several feet away from Oskar, like he doesn’t want to get too close. “It’s only a matter of time.”
I hold my breath, hoping Veikko won’t tell him that the priests might also come to the outlands in search of the lost, mad Valtia, but Oskar speaks before he has a chance to.