The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(127)

I had to help. “Hurry,” I called to the soldiers, and we started to run. As soon as they were away from the wraith shimmer, I sprinted toward Tobiah.

Prince Colin’s eyes bulged. His mouth moved.

“Keep him still.” Tobiah shoved his uncle onto his back.

I dropped my sword and knelt close, and that was all the proximity the wraith needed. The vine loosened and fled; Chrysalis’s influence still held.

Prince Colin curled inward and turned to one side, gasping and coughing. “Wraith queen.” The words were garbled, but I’d heard them enough. I knew.

“How can we help?” Denise asked. The others stood behind her, shaky, but well enough.

“Guard Colin.” I glanced at Tobiah. “The former overlord is officially a traitor, same as Patrick.”

The four moved in just as the horrific noise of screams and metal exploded behind us—and silenced only a second later.

In the wraith shimmer, everyone had shifted. Just slightly. Just enough. One reached for us now, close to where I’d freed Denise. The one who’d been about to stab her in the back had fallen forward. Another was suddenly on his knees, trying to curl into a ball.

It happened again.

The wraith melted for a heartbeat, people lurched and gasped and cried out, and then everything stopped.

“Chrysalis.” Tobiah glanced at me. “He’s regaining control.”

Slowly. Horribly. But he was trying.

“Wil!” Melanie’s voice came from a rooftop down the street, and both she and James pointed—

A thud sounded as a dagger landed in the back of Prince Colin’s neck. He dropped to the ground, dead.

“No!” Tobiah took up his sword and lunged for a shape emerging from a nearby tavern. Patrick. My former friend hefted a giant sword with ease, bringing it up to guard as Tobiah closed on him with an awful shout.

The blades clashed. Patrick shoved Tobiah backward, but the king regained his footing immediately. He feinted low and struck high, but Patrick knew that trick.

The two were closely matched in skill, but where Tobiah was a fast, lithe fighter, Patrick was steady. He’d wear down Tobiah, and then strike a killing blow.

But he wouldn’t risk me.

“Help any of our people who escape the wraith,” I told my soldiers. Chrysalis would seize control soon. I hoped.

“But Patrick—”

“We’ll take care of him. Captain Rayner and Melanie will be here soon.” With no more room for argument, I took my sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, and joined Tobiah.

Patrick swore. “I don’t want to hurt you, Wilhelmina. I promised I wouldn’t ever strike you again, but you’re making that a difficult promise to keep.”

Around us, lightning bursts of chaos hit—Chrysalis fighting the wraith.

“You can keep your promise.” I swung for his side; he blocked. “You can choose to end this.”

“Aecor won’t be free until the Indigo presence is eradicated.” Patrick raised his sword against Tobiah.

Before he could attack, I jumped between them and blocked with my dagger. “Stop, Patrick!”

“I can fight, Wil.” Tobiah was at my side, sword ready.

“He will kill you. He won’t hurt me.” I didn’t take my eyes off Patrick. “Once I wondered if a dead queen was better than a defiant queen, but I know better now. Patrick won’t harm me, because he knows the power of my name. He’s nothing if he’s not fighting for me.”

Tobiah backed off, but Patrick pursued, forcing me to work to keep myself between them. I blocked and redirected blows, chest burning with the effort. Heat poured over the street, and sweat made my clothes cling to my skin.

The rapid noise and silence of Chrysalis’s wraith-control effort made my head spin, and banners of mist had fallen in our space. They were glowing.

“Stay close,” I told Tobiah. “The wraith won’t attack if you’re near me.”

He grunted behind me, followed by the twang of his handheld crossbow firing. “I am in awe of the way you inspire such loyalty. Nevertheless, the wraith has us surrounded.”

I couldn’t look away from Patrick to confirm, just strike and block and move and block and thrust and block. “Well, maybe”—I gasped—“you should do something.”

“I just shot a streetlight in the eye. What more do you want from me?”

My sword arm shook with strain as I attacked again. Patrick blocked me with ease. “You won’t last much longer,” he said. “When you’re finished with this, I’ll kill the foreign king and hang his body from the castle wall. I’ll say this is what the vermilion queen and her Red Militia do to enemies.”

“You will not.” I lunged for Patrick, and when he moved to parry, I stepped inside his guard and thrust my dagger into his stomach.

Blood poured from the wound as he staggered back. “Wil?” Patrick clutched his gut with both hands, his face filled with surprise and hurt. For a heartbeat, he was the same boy who’d given me writing supplies in the old palace, swearing to help me reclaim my kingdom.

No matter the cost.

“I’m sorry, Patrick.” I made myself watch as he fell to his knees, his eyes locked on mine. Around us, the bursts of din grew longer as people broke free. Tobiah stood at my side, and a line of my soldiers at my back. On the street behind Patrick, I caught Melanie and James running toward us. “This was never what I wanted. Our problems have always been so much bigger and more complex than what you saw.”