The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(71)

He was already standing, strapping his sword around his waist. “Stay inside.”

“Where are you going?” My heart thundered with anticipation.

“To look.” He tossed on his coat, not bothering to button it or find a hat. “I’ll be back in a moment. Close that wardrobe.” He was out the door and into thigh-high snowdrifts within seconds.

I slammed the wardrobe door—the wraith boy let out a small meep!—and found my own weapons. Daggers. Sword from the Black Knife bag. I slung my cloak over my shoulders, and just as I was about to move outside, James returned.

“Wil, I told you to stay here.” His eyes were wide, and his clothes covered in snow.

“You’re my guard, not my king. You can’t order me around.” I tied my cloak tight and pushed past him, but he caught my arm and spun me back to face him. Our noses almost touched.

“I do order you around when your life is in danger. Patrick brought an army. There are at least three thousand men on this side of the bridge already, with more on the way. We walked into an ambush. We’re outnumbered. If the Red Militia knew you were here—”

“They’d stop fighting. Now let go of me.” I wrenched myself away, and he backed off. He didn’t try to stop me as I raced out the door, where a drift of snow and ice crumbled under my feet, causing a tiny avalanche to collapse beneath the wagon.

I grabbed the doorframe as I sank into the snow, then heaved myself to my feet and found the trail he’d made, though it wasn’t much easier to walk through.

The sky was thick with stars, and the air sharp with snow and sea salt. The land was flat, flat, flat, nothing but frozen trees and marsh all around.

A dozen soldiers stood watch atop wagons and from horseback, while most of the fighting was closer to the bridge and water. For a half second, I considered trying to jump wagon to wagon, but I’d never make it. Not with the horses and the spaces between, and definitely not in my travel dress and cloak.

I shoved through the heavy snow, keeping to James’s path. Even so, my steps were all whoosh-crunch and sluggish, especially as the cold pressed through my clothes, numbing my legs. My face stung at the icy air, and my breath heaved out in bursts of steam.

“Wil!” James’s voice carried across the space between us. “Wait!”

He’d catch up. I had to keep following the indigo-coated soldiers. The shore was lit with torches and lanterns. Though it wasn’t far off, snow muted the shouts and clash of blades.

“Your Highness!” The cry came from a guard standing on top of a nearby wagon. “It’s not safe out here.”

That was exactly why I’d come. I pushed forward, half swimming through the snow.

“My queen.” A palm landed on my shoulder, and I pivoted, dagger up, to find my wraith creation right behind me. He wore the same clothes as always, torn and hanging, and if the cold affected him, he didn’t show it. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t want your help. Why are you out of your wardrobe?” Snow pressed around me, sharp and stinging against my legs. If I didn’t keep moving, my muscles would stiffen and cramp, and then I’d never be able to find Patrick.

“James said you would need my assistance. He even moved the mirrors out of my way.” The wraith boy reached ahead of me and brushed aside a layer of snow.

Heavy white powder and slush thundered away from us, leaving a shallower stretch across the next few paces.

James walked up behind me. “I’m not sorry,” he said. “If you won’t be sensible, I won’t, either. Neither of us will allow you to be harmed.”

“You know what he did to Meredith. And those guards. And the cathedral.” I squeezed my dagger hilt, desperate to keep circulation in my fingers. “Saints, James. You know what he is.”

His hard expression never shifted. “Is this the time to argue? There are people dying on the shore—people from both sides. Do you want to stop it or not?” He eyed the wraith boy askance. “This is the only way you go.”

“Very well. Clear a path, Chrysalis. Don’t hurt anyone, or mirrors will be the very least of your problems.” I sheathed my dagger and held my cloak tight over my chest.

“I will do only as you order, my queen.” He bowed his head and shuffled in front of me to begin his work.

He would obey, but for how long? I glanced at James, keeping my voice low. “If he harms someone, that’s on you.”

Shouts came from atop the wagons, ordering us to put the wraith boy back inside, and for James to keep me from doing anything stupid. A soldier on horseback started toward us, but with Chrysalis heaving snow, we moved swiftly along the line of wagons.

“I outrank them,” James said, as though I were worried they’d report him. “What are you going to do? Stand on a wagon and announce your presence?”

“I’ll find Patrick and make him listen to me. That might involve standing on a wagon. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Decide soon. You don’t have much time.” Men were spilling from the fringes of the fighting just ahead. Red and blue uniforms shone with snow and blood. Swords flashed in the flickering lights.

We ran on, the wraith boy pushing ahead of us. I kept my eyes on the bridge arching above the bay as we dodged smaller fights that had splintered away from the main forces.