The Impostor Queen (The Impostor Queen, #1)(91)
Raimo shakes his head. “The cuff is like you, Elli. Immune to magic. It can’t be destroyed that way. And like you, it can magnify the magic of any wielder who’s touching it. Tahvo might use this crisis as an excuse to claim it—and the throne.”
“Unless the Soturi strike first,” says Sig. “The barbarian envoys were right there at the coronation. The elders were putting on quite a show for them.”
“And you revealed the lie.” In the most fiery, awful way. My voice breaks as I remember that I’ll never see Mim’s beautiful, kind face again.
“You helped,” Sig says drily.
I bow my head. He’s right. And despite the fact that I channeled all that power, I feel more powerless than ever. Oskar shifts so his big body is between me and Sig. “You used her.”
“And something tells me you did too,” Sig says with a laugh. “How else did you have the control to bring down enough ice to encase twenty men? You might have endless ice magic inside you, Oskar, but you’ve never learned to wield it. You never even wanted it.”
“But I have it, and I’ll wield it now,” Oskar says quietly.
“Only because you’re besotted with her.”
The temperature in the chamber drops so suddenly that Raimo shudders. “Does it matter why I’m doing it?” Oskar snaps. “You’ve wanted me to fight alongside you for years, and here I am.”
Heat rises to meet the cold. “Here you are.” Sig reaches around Oskar and grabs my arm. “And here’s the reason we’ll win. Did you feel the power of touching her, brother? We can bring down the temple with the elders inside. This is the war we’re meant to fight, with her beside us.”
“No!” I shout, ripping my sleeve from Sig’s sweaty grasp before Oskar has a chance to. “We’re going there to destroy the elders and take back the temple. But I won’t help with anything else. The acolytes and apprentices are innocent. The Saadella is a child. And the Kupari people need protection, especially now! Destroying the temple will destroy them—their hope, their will—and with the Soturi at our borders, I won’t let it happen.” My mouth snaps shut, but my voice is still echoing throughout the cavern. Every cave dweller’s eyes are on me.
“Spoken like a queen,” Raimo says with amusement. “You hear that, everyone?” He points to me. “If you can wield, come with us. It’s time to reclaim the Temple on the Rock.”
We set out perhaps an hour later, and by that time my fear and hope are twined so tightly inside me that I’m barely aware of what’s going on around me. Small things filter in, though. Oskar’s loud fight with Freya about whether she can come, and the blast of heat she sends at him as she tries to convince him she can help. Sig’s laughter as he watches, and the way he makes the air around her so hot that her skin turns pink and she starts to cry. Oskar’s grateful look as the two of them walk out of the cavern and leave her behind, safe in her mother’s arms. Maarika’s inscrutable gray eyes, following her son’s tall form as he strides into the winter sunlight. “He’s still got burns all over his back,” she says to me. “He almost died an hour ago.”
“I’ll do my best to protect him.” I kiss her forehead and turn away, already wondering if I can keep that promise. What if I have to choose between protecting him and protecting the Saadella?
We have twenty wielders in all. Two Suurin. One tottering, centuries-old man. Sig’s eight wielders, including Usko, Mikko, and Tuuli, lean and wary as they glare at me and Oskar. And nine cavern dwellers—Veikko, Ismael, Aira, and six others—each of them somber and pale as they hug their families and clear bundles of clothes and food off the horses. We’re not moving camp today.
Instead, we’re going to war. Us against thirty priests and three powerful elders. Thirty apprentices and at least a hundred acolytes who could fight for either side. We might have a better chance now than ever before, but our odds still don’t seem good.
Oskar, his hair tied back, the circles under his eyes telling me of all he’s been through in the last day, joins me as I stroke the neck of the roan mare. “What will happen if we succeed?” he asks.
“Isn’t that a question for Raimo?” I murmur.
He brushes a coppery lock of hair from my brow. “I don’t think so.”
I look into his eyes. “I’m a weapon in this war. I’m not fooling myself that I’m anything more than that.”
His lips curve into a half smile. “I think you are fooling yourself.”
“You said it—I’m no queen.”
His gaze on my face feels like a caress. “I said you weren’t a queen to me. I don’t get to say what you are to others.”
I turn away from him, fiddling with the horse’s reins as it nickers softly. “It’s pointless to think about now.”
Oskar sighs. “Will you ride with me?”
“No. You need your strength.”
“I have plenty, Elli. More than I want sometimes.”
My fingers stray along the horse’s silky, warm neck. “Can you do this, Oskar? You never wanted to be a part of this. You’ve never fought—”
His cool hand closes over my shoulder. “Stop,” he says quietly. “Raimo says this is what I was made for.”