He pointed and then put his hand on his bow, positioning it, clearly concerned it wasnota welcoming party. Naelin saw five air spirits shoot out from the window of one of the turrets. Small and streamlined, they looked like arrows.
Ah, there’s the challenge.
Naelin ordered their two mounts to split and circle the city, keeping a distance from the palace at its peak. She reached out with her mind toward the five foreign spirits—and met a wall. Their minds felt like a slick surface. Her thoughts glided off it.
Just like the ones that took Erian and Llor.
That almost unmoored her, but the fact that she was going to see them soon—Iamgoing to see them soon—kept her focused.
One of the foreign spirits let out a shrill cry and then dove at Naelin. Ven shouted, urging his spirit down to defend her. He drew an arrow out of his quiver and had it strung. Rising up, with only his knees holding on to his spirit, he aimed.
Naelin shoved her mind hard at the blankness.Do not attack!
But the spirit didn’t seem to hear her.
It stayed on course, shooting toward her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ven fire his arrow. It hit the spirit in the right eye, and the spirit howled.
The other four spirits targeted Ven.
“Ven, watch out!” Naelin cried.
He was firing arrows fast, but there were too many. As one swiped at his head, he swung his bow and hit it hard, knocking it aside. The others tore at the wings of his air spirit, trying to claw their way to him.
Naelin tried to force the Semoian spirits to obey her, but her commands bashed into the slick blankness and slid away, so she switched directions and rammed her mind into a spirit in the palace—a tiny, weak fire spirit who was tending to a candle. She forced it to open its mouth and speak:
Queen Merecot! We come in peace!
She then grabbed the mind of every other weak spirit on the mountain until they were all shouting the same:Queen Merecot! We come in peace!
It echoed through the castle.
We come in peace!
Abruptly, the five spirits broke off their attack. They sped back into the turret and disappeared through the window. Ven steadied himself on the back of his spirit. His green armor was ripped at the shoulder, and his air spirit was dripping golden blood from the tip of one wing. It drooped to the side as it struggled to stay aloft.
Naelin scanned the palace, looking for a safe place to land. Pointing at one of the towers, Ven shouted, “There!”
Like the Chamber of the Queen’s Champions in the palace of Mittriel, the white castle of Arkon had a broad balcony balanced on top of one of the pinnacles. Flying underneath Ven’s spirit, Naelin guided them all toward it and landed. His serpent spirit pitched forward as it touched down and then collapsed on the ground. She dismounted and hurried to it and Ven.
Groaning, he slid off its back, then waved her off. “Just a scratch.”
“Let me look,” Naelin demanded.
He laid a hand over his wound. She saw his shirt was speckled with blood. “I’m fine. Let’s not show weakness in front of Queen Merecot’s people.” He nodded significantly at something—or someone—over Naelin’s shoulder.
She turned to see castle guards dressed in marble-white armor, pouring out of an archway. Ven drew his sword and stood ready by Naelin as she straightened to face them.
What am I doing here? I’m just a woodswoman.She’d never imagined she’d leave the forest to stand on the pinnacle of the capital of Semo, on the side of a mountain.But here I am.
I am a not just a woodswoman.
I am a woman of the woods.
I am thequeen.
Ven spoke in a booming voice: “This is Queen Naelin of Aratay, answering the request of Queen Merecot of Semo. Stand down, or face the wrath of your queen and ours.”
The guards did not stand down. Shoulder to shoulder, they held their swords ready, their faces implacable and unreadable through their helmets.
