The Mirror King (The Orphan Queen, #2)(81)

“I need to get up,” I shouted, but no one listened. They were distracted with protecting me.

Panic swelled in my chest, and the more I tried to push it away, the tighter it grew. How had the wraith boy escaped? Unless he’d broken the mirrors, I could think of only one way: he’d erupted through the back of the wardrobe and the side of the wagon. There were no mirrors there.

“Wilhelmina!” His voice was closer, but he’d been in the middle of the convoy. There were so many people between him and me. And he’d kill them. Without thought. Without remorse. He’d kill them and leave me to carry the burden of their deaths.

“Stop!” I screamed. “Everyone stop!” I pushed away from the boys, struggling to unpin my legs from between the horses. “Let me up!”

They wouldn’t listen. Even Ronald—with an arrow in his arm—tried to shove me back down and keep me from harm.

“I need to get up,” I screamed. “He’s coming. He’ll kill everyone to get to me.”

James would agree. He would help me. But I couldn’t find him anywhere.

Another explosion shuddered through the street, and more of the angry screams shifted into terrified. Some of the horses spooked, but the mob wasn’t as easily distracted. Arrows fell from some of the higher buildings, striking guards. Several dropped, making way for the stampede of rioters.

“Let me up!” I heaved away from the boys, away from Melanie, who was twisting to look over her shoulder.

Suddenly, I was on my feet, pushed and knocked around by the horses slowly marching down the street. Boots and knees struck me, but I shoved my way free of the line of horses—out from the protection of the guards.

“Chrysalis!” I couldn’t see him from the middle of the mob, but he had to be close.

Someone grabbed me. I struck back with my elbow and spun to find a man cupping his now-bleeding nose. “She’s here!” he cried, but the words were muffled and awkward. “The queen is here!”

Within moments, they surrounded me. Hands reached. Touched. Gripped my arms and ankles.

“Don’t hurt her!” someone called. “He said not to hurt her.”

Someone grabbed my hair.

I could draw my sword and fight them off, but then what? Kill my own people? Kill the very people I was trying to save from Chrysalis?

From the fore of the convoy, Melanie screamed my name. James did, too. But I couldn’t see them through the crowd. I was trapped. Someone pulled out a rock and drew back to hit me.

My daggers were halfway from their sheaths—the only weapons I could draw in these close quarters—when the man with the rock flew away.

“My queen.” Chrysalis took the man’s place and shoved aside a handful of people who’d grabbed me. The crowd rippled backward, finally realizing who—what—had joined them.

“Wraith!” Screams erupted anew, but there was nowhere for people to go.

“I was coming to get you,” I said to Chrysalis.

He knelt and offered a hand. “I will take you to safety.”

By carrying me? Or . . .

Chrysalis tilted his head and straightened his shoulders. “They grow restless for you, my queen.”

Heart pounding in my ears, I took the wraith boy’s hand, used his forward knee as a stair, and stepped onto his shoulders. When I was faced forward, the skirt of my gown safely behind his head, he stood, one hand clasped around my ankle to steady me.

My cloak fluttered in the wind as I rose above the crowd. People gasped and drew back. They pointed and the panic began to ease.

“Say something,” Chrysalis suggested. “You are their queen and they will never forget this moment, your triumphant return.”

Melanie, James, and the Gray brothers were ahead. There was no sign of Prince Colin or his guards, but he couldn’t have gotten very far in this madness.

And over everything, Sandcliff Castle rose against the darkening sky, interior lights dotting the windows like stars. Vermilion flags hung motionless as the wind died.

“So much has changed recently,” I called as the last of the voices ceased, and everyone waited to hear what I would say. “There has been so much death and destruction. So many battles for control of this city.

“Not ten years ago, my parents ruled Aecor. Some of you remember them. Some of you are too young.” I let my gaze travel over the sea of faces staring up. Men and women. Young and old. Angry and scared. “For nearly a decade, you were made to bow to a foreign king and his brother who called himself overlord. For nearly a decade you endured heightened taxes, drafts to the wraithland, and more.

“And then Patrick Lien returned, telling you I was a hostage in the Indigo Kingdom. There was fighting. Another shift in leadership. There was fear because of the unknown. But I am here to tell you not to fear. Because I am Wilhelmina Korte, rightful heir to the vermilion throne, and I have returned to Aecor.

“I was not a hostage in the Indigo Kingdom, but an honored guest as I negotiated for my return to power. As I negotiated for my return to you.”

Someone was crying. Others pushed forward to hear better. Chrysalis’s hand tightened around my ankle as he began to move toward the castle.

“I don’t blame you for your reaction as I return with Prince Colin at my side. But know this: I am your queen. And I will care for you. I’ve come with representatives of the Indigo Kingdom—my friends and advisers—but Aecor will not be under Indigo Kingdom rule much longer. Nor will you live under Patrick Lien again, wondering if the frightening things he tells you are true, and if the terrifying things he does will affect you next.