Page 117 of The Fox Heir

The Dead Queen does not hesitate. “You know I won’t do that.”

“Do you want to watch your kingdom burn?” Father asks, his voice low. “To hear the screams of your people as they die on the end of a copper-tipped sword? I will show no mercy.”

“You don’t even know the word.”

He grins; his mouth seemingly full of too many teeth. “Exactly.”

My blood runs cold. He knew it would come to this. He’s been looking forward to it.

The Fox King kicks his horse, and it steps back, turning toward his unending line of copper soldiers. He points one gauntlet-clad hand toward a distant mountain peak to the west. “You have until the sun reaches that point to change your mind.”

He rides off, his copper King’s Guards galloping at his flank.

Half a day. That’s how much longer the people of Gwyllion have to live. By mid-afternoon, the copper axe will fall.

“You should have let me kill him,” I say, staring as he retreats. Even as I say it, I know it isn’t true. If the people of Gwyllion are to have any chance of survival, it falls on me, the Dead Queen, and the Wolves.

In the distance, thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Spires, rumbling and ominous.

Nalina ignores me and turns to the Dead Queen. “What are your orders?”

Through the hole in her face, I watch what remains of the queen’s tongue as she speaks. “We fight.”

Nalina nods once, then turns back toward the castle to ready the troops. When she’s gone, I watch the Dead Queen for a long moment, wondering if she fully understands what she’s asking of her people. They will be slaughtered.

If there was ever a time for honesty between us, it’s now, on the edge of death. She needs to know who she’s dealing with. Who I truly am. I will not slink off into the shadows to plot and kill in secret, like my father does. I will not hide in castle towers, creating undead creatures to do my bidding for me, like the Dead Queen.

I am not my father. And I am not what remains of my grandmother. Secrets are what got us into this mess in the first place. I choose to live my life with brutal honesty.

“There’s something you should know about me,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“And what is that?” The Dead Queen barely even turns to acknowledge me.

“After I kill my father, I have other plans.”

“I’d expect nothing less of a Fox Heir.”

I turn to face her straight on. “Someday, I will end you.”

Not even a hint of emotion crosses her face when she whispers her response. “I know.”

At least, in that, we have an understanding.

Chapter 35

The storm clouds bubble and rage along the edge of the fae-enchanted border as if they’re waiting. As if they’re impatient, like me. I’ve brooded all winter, locked up in this frozen cage. Now, I’m ready to fight. I’m ready to kill the Fox King.

Nervous villagers watch as the sun rises steadily overhead. It pauses at the zenith, as if holding its breath for the descent. When it hovers over the tip of the western peak, the tension finally breaks. Wordless, we all move toward our stations.

From atop the battlements, I can see everything. The open field stretches between Gwyllion’s stone walls and the shadowed forest at the mountain’s base. Somewhere beyond that veil, the Fox Army gathers.

My stomach twists with a mixture of fear and anxiety. So many people are about to die. And why has it come to this? Because my father cares nothing for human lives, that’s why. He cares only about his own motives and ambitions. Now we all stand here on the edge of battle, waiting to see who will live and who will die. Cold rage laces through my veins.

A breeze blows my scarlet cloak behind me. It’s foolhardy to wear bright red in battle. It makes me an easy target, but that’s the point.

I want him to see me.

I want my father to watch as I use light power to rain death upon his men. I want him to recognize his own daughter as the one who burns brighter than he ever could. My hands grip the stone wall in anticipation.