The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(71)

I wrench myself up to sitting, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain. My arms are still bound at my sides. “Just let me go,” I plead.

“Free yourself, Valtia,” he says. Then he hurls one of the spheres at me. It hits me in the chest, setting the hemp ropes aflame. They fall away from me as he hurls the second ball of fire right at my face. I feel the kiss of its warmth on my cheeks, a polite greeting, before the fire disappears. Sig’s brow furrows and light flickers in his dark pupils.

Jouni curses and steps back, just like Freya did when Sig heated the air in the cavern. Sig himself is sweating now, cooking in the fire of his own making. A shining drop slides down his chiseled face as he watches me sitting before him, feeling nothing at all.

“Tuuli,” he finally barks.

The brown-haired woman lays her spitted hare on a stack of flat stones. “You want ice?” When he nods, she grins. “As you wish.”

She comes closer, regarding me with her dark-gray eyes. I smile wearily at her. I’m so tired of people shooting their ice and fire at me, and it’s not like I can pretend anymore—it’s impossible to fake serious burns and ugly frostbite, and I’m in too much real pain to put on an act. Tuuli’s hands rise from her sides, her fingers shiny with grease. Her lips are pressed together and her arms shake with the force of her efforts to wield the magic inside her.

Perhaps she’s trying to freeze my blood. The air around me cools, but I cannot help the thought—she is nothing compared to Oskar. Of course, the faintest reminder of him makes my throat tight. Will he be relieved when he discovers I’m gone?

Tuuli’s chin trembles, and she shivers within the frost of her magic. Even Sig has goose bumps on his pale chest now. But me? The only thing that’s left me cold is knowing that Oskar might be glad to be rid of me.

“You look chilled,” I say to the magic wielders in front of me.

Tuuli lets out a frustrated breath, and her arms drop to her sides. She gives Sig a nervous look. “I—I could try to—”

“Don’t bother,” Sig says, staring at me.

Tuuli’s shoulders sag as she returns to her cooking, but Sig looks more intrigued than disappointed. “Only someone with balanced magic could withstand fire and ice like that,” he says, moving closer once more. “But why don’t you strike at us?”

I’m saved from answering by the whinny of a few horses just beyond the dunes. Sig had said he was camping at the oak bluffs, a stretch of high cliffs over the Motherlake on the northwestern shore of the peninsula. The city must be only an hour’s ride from here, northeast through the woods. If I can escape, perhaps steal a horse—

“Oy! Sig!” comes a gruff voice.

“Here,” calls Sig.

A short, stocky man with a thick beard and coppery hair jogs between the dunes. “They’ve found the Saadella,” he huffs, planting his palms on his thighs. “The herald announced it in the square this morning. Discovered her last night, apparently, as her parents tried to sneak her out of the city. And the temple just announced that the coronation of the Valtia will be at sunset. She’s agreed to end her mourning and appear.”

Sig’s eyes narrow. “But . . . Usko, I thought you told me they were searching for the Valtia.” He glances at me and then back to the new arrival.

Usko scratches at his beard and nods. “That’s what I’d heard from a constable, but the priests’ official stance has always been that she was in mourning.”

Jouni scoffs. “Then why did seven of them—including an elder—show up at the caverns this morning, looking for her?”

Usko pauses mid-scratch. “They did?” He looks me over. “Um . . . who are you?”

“Who do you think she is, idiot?” says Jouni, rolling his eyes.

Sig arches a golden eyebrow as he squats next to me. “So who are they crowning at sunset, Elli?”

My heart pounds against my breast. Could the elders have found the true Valtia, the one who always should have been there, the one whose place I stole? Is she the one in charge now, like Oskar and I suspected this morning? Do the priests want to kill me in order to silence me, or have they realized what I am and decided I’m their enemy? Would the true Valtia welcome me as her sister—or will Aleksi and the others poison her against me?

Anger at the elders burns inside me, and Sig must sense the heat, because his eyes snap to mine. He tilts his head, then offers me his hand. “Come with me.”

When I hesitate, he wiggles his fingers, pure impatience. “I promise I won’t hurt you. Not yet, at least.”

Honestly, what choice do I have? I slide my palm over his, and his long fingers close around my hand. He grasps my elbow and helps me to my feet, then holds me as I sway.

“Tuuli, a cloth, please,” he says. After she obeys, he presses it to the side of my head, and it comes away smeared with red. “This way,” he murmurs, leading me away from his friends. None of them question it. In fact, as we walk between the dunes, they strike up a conversation about everything Usko and the others saw in the city.

Sig and I slowly hike to where the snow has been blown into stiff, icy peaks, lying over the sand like spiky armor. Sig kicks off a chunk, captures it within the cloth, and offers it to me, nodding at the bump on the side of my head. “I’m wondering if I’ve been a bit of an arse.”