Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns, #4)(18)

‘A little something in the stomach can sometimes help. I have brought tarts. Made with dried fruit and preserves, which we must all get used to if you cannot banish the mist by the summer.’

‘That is very kind of you.’

‘I wanted you to have something worthy, in case it is the last thing you ever eat.’ She smiles sweetly, and behind her, the lamps flare so hot that they char the surface of the glass. ‘Now, now.’ Katharine wags a finger. Mirabella’s eyes narrow. There is something odd about the way she is using her hands. Only one of them moves. Like there is something wrong with the other. ‘Save your gift for the mist.’

‘I am.’ Mirabella smiles, equally sweetly. ‘That fire was from Bree.’

Bree clears her throat and leaves. ‘I did not expect to be tattled upon,’ she whispers as she passes, and Mirabella chuckles.

‘I would have rathered it be Elizabeth here with you,’ Katharine says after Bree is gone. ‘I am fond of her little woodpecker. I brought a small loaf of nut bread for him.’

‘That is very kind.’

‘Do not sound so surprised. I am kind. When I can be.’ The tone of Katharine’s voice makes Mirabella wither. Youngest triplet or not, the crown has settled upon Katharine and made her more substantial, and cast Mirabella and Arsinoe off as ghosts.

‘For what it is worth,’ Katharine says, ‘I was reluctant to agree to Rho’s suggestion of other elementals.’ ‘It is worth nothing,’ says Mirabella, ‘if they die.’

‘Do not make it seem simple. Being the Queen Crowned is not as easy as right or wrong. What would you do if you were to face what I face? I have spoken to the priestesses since the Ascension, Mirabella. You have done your share of sacrificing.’

Mirabella’s stomach twists, remembering the priestess she buried beneath the rocks in practice for the Quickening.

‘The elementals you summoned . . . are they willing at least?’

‘Of course. They have been promised rich rewards simply for making the attempt.’ Katharine reaches for a tart, again with the same hand. ‘To be honest, they are not even afraid. Not with you there.’

‘And you resent me for that. That they think I am so strong. But who knows how strong I really am? You were there at Innisfuil; you saw how the mist tore through your soldiers and all of the people I could not save.’

Katharine nods. ‘Pressure,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘True, there is always pressure. But just once, I would like to be given the benefit of belief rather than the expectation that I will fail. Perhaps we are worrying for nothing. Perhaps with you there, the mist will not even rise.’

‘You do not really think that.’

‘No,’ Katharine says. ‘The mist has risen for every ship that tries to leave the port. But nor do I hope that you fail.’ She rubs at the black band tattooed across her forehead, perhaps unconsciously, her other hand dangling near her waist. ‘They want me to kill you, you know. The Black Council. If the elementals are successful and we do not need you to fight the mist. Since no one really knows you are here, it will be an easy enough thing to hide. They say you are another queen, and it is the natural solution. But do not worry. Once again, the High Priestess saved you. ‘You cannot kill her,’ she said. ‘For even if you find elementals who are strong enough to face the mist, their gifts grow stronger with an elemental queen.’

‘That is a very fine imitation of Luca.’

Katharine chuckles. ‘Good old Luca. Forever at your back. Even finding a way to attribute the entire elemental gift to you. But it worked. Not even Lucian could say a word. So I suppose I get to keep you, at least until both wars are over.’

‘Luca is not always at my back. She would have overseen my execution. In the end, I failed her, and she chose you.’ Mirabella swallows. She hates the thickness that comes into her voice at the mention of Luca’s betrayal. She is still too soft-hearted.

‘If it makes you feel better, she did not really choose me,’ says Katharine. ‘She chose the one she always chooses.’

‘The Goddess,’ says Mirabella. ‘The island. Like we all do.’

‘Like we all do.’ Katharine casts a look to the window, all shadows now, the only points of light in the city from fires and lamps. ‘Are you ready?’ she asks without looking at Mirabella. ‘It is time.’

Bardon Harbor is eerily quiet as Mirabella and the elementals are loaded onto the barge. Even though it would naturally be subdued, the fishers and dockworkers gone home and the seabirds back in their nests, the silence hangs like a pall. There is not a soul out tonight, and no faces peek from the windows. There are only the queensguard and the Black Council and Queen Katharine herself upon the shore.

Beneath Mirabella’s feet, the barge rocks gently back and forth. Normally, she finds waves soothing, but these only make her sick to her stomach.

The elementals who responded to the summons line up on her left and right. Before they boarded the barge, Katharine draped a medallion around each of their necks: a silver circle, like a coin, bearing the queen’s seal. A mark of favor, from Katharine the Undead, hung from a length of braided black cord.

‘It is heavy,’ says the boy next to her as he cups it in his hands. ‘I know she meant it as a blessing, but just now it feels like—’