The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(124)

A heavy flake of snow drifted between us, then toward me at a gust of wind. I moved away, but heat touched me—and then nothing.

The wraith boy nodded solemnly as a small burn appeared on him. “I will do as you wish, my queen.”

He flickered and vanished.

Melanie lowered her sword and rushed for me, while Tobiah staggered back and seemed to collect his thoughts. James didn’t leave his side.

“He took it.” Theresa’s voice was eerily loud. “When the snow struck you, the burn went on him.”

“It won’t hurt you,” Kevin murmured. “Because it will hurt him instead.”

Tobiah still gripped his sword, the leather of his gloves stretched taut around his knuckles. “Use it while you have it, Wil. You heard him; his influence won’t last.”

Ahead, Oscar and Sergeant Ferris disappeared around the corner of the water purification factory. Wraith light hung gloomily over the building, making odd shadows that shifted into the shapes of disproportioned hands and arms.

“This way. Stay close.” I didn’t wait for affirmation, just sprinted toward the factory. If I could get them out of the snow and tendrils of wraith for even a few minutes, that would be something.

At my approach, the wraith skittered away, making a path for the others.

The factory door hung open.

“Are we going in?” Kevin asked.

“Yes.” I checked the street. There was no sign of Oscar and Sergeant Ferris yet, but they’d return shortly. I hoped. “You and Theresa stand guard in the doorway and wait for the others. I don’t want anyone left alone.”

The pair saluted, and I led the remaining three inside the building where lights burned, both gas and wraith.

Queasiness made me sway as I took in the room. Pipes had grown talons or feet, and their claws scraped at the floor. Barrels had turned into feathers. Walls rippled like silk sheets in a breeze.

“It’s ruined,” I rasped. “The lowcity needed this plant, and now it’s ruined.”

Melanie’s voice came hard. “They won’t need it if we can’t all pull ourselves together and stop the wraith. Now let’s go.”

She was right. We had work to do.

In the main room, we found Claire. She’d been trussed to a wooden chair and abandoned, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Her foot sat in the blood, detached from the rest of her.

“Saints.” Melanie rushed to untie her. “Who—Patrick?”

Claire was pale, her sweat-dampened hair stuck to her face and neck. “Patrick.” She closed her eyes, and her head dipped as though she might faint. Someone had wrapped the stump on her leg, but not well. Blood dripped from the bandage.

“Is there anyone else here?” James asked, his sword at the ready.

“No. Everyone’s gone to fight. But I haven’t heard them in a few minutes. It’s so quiet now.” One of her eyes was bruised and swollen, and her mouth was split. “I meant to go to your coronation. I wanted to accept your offer. But the Militia got to me first. They knew I’d been talking with you. They held me until Patrick arrived.” She lifted her chin high, but the act didn’t fool anyone. “That’s why they took my foot. For straying.”

I motioned at the boys. “Check the rooms. Find anything that might help Claire. I want her taken to the castle. Connor might be able to heal her.”

“There are blankets in that office.” Her hands free now, Claire pointed to a nearby opening; the door was gone now. “And wood beams all over, though the wraith—”

“We’ll find something.” Tobiah waved James with him.

“Mel, grab another chair. We need to put her”—not her foot; that was on the ground—“leg up so she doesn’t lose more blood.”

I pulled Claire and her chair away from the puddle of blood and knelt so I could prop her stump on my knee. The bandage was soaked, so I drew a new one from my belt and tied it over the old, like Connor and the Gray brothers had taught me.

“Here.” I gave her a packet of powdered herbs to numb the pain. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

Claire accepted the medicine and dropped her gaze to me, her voice low and slurred. “He planned to go after Colin tonight. That was his goal all along. But Colin moved against you.”

Prince Colin wouldn’t risk his nephew’s life, that much I trusted. But he’d malign and defame the vigilante king, if that meant he could take the throne. The Indigo Kingdom. Aecor. Either one. He just wanted power.

Melanie returned with a second chair and helped me arrange Claire’s leg. The movement was too much, and she lost consciousness.

“We can’t linger here,” Melanie whispered into the oppressive silence. Where was Chrysalis? Had he regained control of the wraith?

I shook away the questions. “Four need to go back with Claire. Two to carry her, one to carry”—I pointed toward her foot—“that, and one to defend.”

“James and I won’t leave you,” she said.

“Fine.”

Claire roused herself and blinked. “The Red Militia wants to defend your right to the throne,” she said. “They’ll destroy Colin for you.”

“I know they will. But they shouldn’t.” I straightened as Tobiah and James returned, their arms full of blankets, ropes, and wood beams. “Good, let’s make—”