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  Cecil nods. “Yes, m’lady. We didn’t have to chase them very far. They were glad to be on their way back to the Bastion.”

  “Good. There’s something else I have to ask …” But I can’t get the words out of my mouth. I can’t find the words Imogen urged me to say, to ask if he’d call more bearcats here to help us. I just don’t think I can ask them to put their lives on the line like that.

  I smile, taking a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure you all got something to eat too.”

  “Oh, we did, m’lady.” His eyes twinkle and he chuckles.

  I don’t ask for more details.

  More helpful gifts arrive the following day. At dawn, a large pile of food is discovered near the kitchen area: sausages and cakes, dried beef and potatoes, and more. There are also woolen blankets and cloaks. All midnight blue, Seraphine’s color.

  There is also a note, and one of the women brings it to me.

  Our Dearest Majesty—

  * * *

  Please accept our offering in support of your claim to the throne. We continue to dream of the day when we’ll see you seated rightfully upon it.

  * * *

  —A friend of Queen Seraphine’s

  A slow smile spreads across my face as I realize who sent this gift of food, pilfered right from Dominic’s kitchens: the hooded boy, no doubt. What this also tells me is that he’s not working alone; he’d surely need help getting all this out here.

  It also tells me the food’s fine to eat and I order the cooks to prepare a breakfast feast for everyone.

  Over the next days, the bearcats continue to hunt far afield, presenting a boar or a deer to the camp, just like a house cat would bring a mouse. And though the temperatures continue to drop, it’s a relief to be well-fed, at least.

  There’s a sense growing in the camp, a feeling of settling down for the winter. Even Catriona seems less restless; she and Tui have made themselves at home in their own tent. They go off together nearly every day to hunt, but I know they are scouting around the Bastion as well, looking for signs the Loyalists are leaving.

  So far, it appears they’re staying put.

  I, of course, feel anything but settled.

  Imogen begs me repeatedly to go into the Bastion, to make a stand, but still I refuse. I can’t help feeling that it would be too dangerous. Too many will die.

  Something will happen soon, but I have no idea what that might be. I’m more than ready for Dominic to stand down. To get some news of the whereabouts of my family—I still haven’t heard a thing. I still don’t know if they even made it off that sinking ship.

  I’m glad at least that spirits remain high in the camp, with good food, music, and a bonfire, most nights.

  With full bellies, Leif and I make ourselves comfortable, out of sight from the others dancing and singing around tonight’s fire.

  He leans over, gives my ear a tiny nibble.

  I give him a tiny shove away. “Maybe later, Leif. I can’t shake my nerves tonight.”

  He grabs hold of my hand, squeezes it tightly. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not—I’ve been waiting for the day that is to come for years. This is it, Raven, I just know it. That brat Dominic is just a tiny snag in your ascension to the throne, what we’ve all been waiting for for … centuries, really. Long before we even knew of your existence.”

  I remember the tale he’d told me when we first met: how his father Nile would tell stories on his sales travels, his favorite one being about the infant Woman King who got away. It’s always seemed far too much of a coincidence to me.

  “How did Nile know? About me?”

  I watch as Leif’s eyebrows rise in the firelight. He doesn’t answer right away. “He’d become a good friend of Seraphine’s, in the years before she … died. She must have let something out, I guess.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it, as if there’s something he’s trying to remember. “But that doesn’t make sense either. He’s told me that story since I was very little. I don’t think he even knew her then …” His voice trails off; he’s gazing into the treetops, unseeingly.

  I give his hand a little squeeze. “Maybe it was meant to be, all of it. The stories, old Araroa learning the truth. You setting out to find me … everything’s led to us being right here, in these woods, camped outside the Bastion, about to unseat an illegal kid from the throne. That’s what you’d always tell me, anyway. I think I might believe it now.”

  Leif turns to me, the look on his face the very one he had that first time I looked into it, in the woods all those moons ago: one of rapture. Enchantment. He says only one word: “Finally?”

  His golden hair is hanging loose around his face. I reach up to wrap my hand in its softness, start to draw him toward me. “Finally,” I say, and then press my mouth against his.

  For a few long minutes, the camp disintegrates around us. It’s just Leif and I in our own delicious world.

  The sound of screaming rips us right back into the real one.

  Leif and I jump up, and together we run toward the commotion.

  More screams and sobbing.

  When I see what’s happened, I have to put my fist against my mouth to stifle my own.

  The bearcat’s head has been deposited just outside of our camp, in a circle of moonlight. Women are trying unsuccessfully to keep their children away; theirs are the screams that brought Leif and me running.

  I push my way through the crowd, stopping before the huge head. It’s laying on the ground as if it were simply tossed there like a sack of rubbish. The eyes are still open; I reach over and gently close each lid. The fur is black and white and I recognize it to be Everett, one of Cecil’s most trusted cats.

  I don’t know whether to cry or scream in anger. This killing of an innocent is completely unjustified.

  There is a ribbon tied to the furry ear, and an envelope. I gently take it down, pull out the note inside.

  My Servant Raven—

  * * *

  I ordered you and your Traitors to move your illegal camp. You did not. What’s more, your “friends” have been hunting on crown land and I will not allow it. You and your unlawful people—and animals—are hereby ordered to depart at once and cease hunting on my land.If you do not, expect more heads to roll.

  * * *

  Sincerely,

  Dominic

  I read the note twice, then crinkle it up into a tiny ball and toss it on the ground.

  There is a thundering upon the earth, hundreds of creatures coming toward us. Then Cecil is there next to me. He places a paw on Everett’s head, and roars. It reverberates through my body, out into the night, and I’m sure it reaches the Palace and Dominic’s ears.

  “He will pay for this,” I tell Cecil through gritted teeth. “I promise you.”

  “He will indeed,” Cecil agrees, almost too calmly.

  “I will not stop you, should you and your cats wish to enter the Bastion with us.”

  “You couldn’t stop me if you tried,” he growls.

  Chapter 16

  As soon as I say the words, preparations are immediately begun to move into the Bastion. Imogen is thrilled that we’re finally taking offensive action against Dominic, the Loyalists, all of them. All I know is I won’t allow Dominic and his minions to harm one more of my creatures.

  After a sleepless night, everyone is up long before dawn to finish packing up the camp. For many, it’s a return home.

  For all, it’s hope this long millennium will finally come to an end.

  We depart at noon, heading straight for the western gates. There are a dozen wagons pulled by mules, plus children, dogs, and goats. Surrounding us are Cecil and his bearcat clan.

  As expected, the gates are shut, a dozen Hunters standing guard. I get the feeling we were expected.

  Cecil joins me, standing directly before them.

  “Open these gates,” I order. “Otherwise, my bearcats will tear them down.”

  “I—I’m—sorry,” the one closest to me st
ammers. “But I cannot let you in. King Dominic Araroa’s orders.”

  “Well. I am Woman King Raven Araroa, and I’m ordering you to unlock them. Otherwise, like I said, my bearcats will release them for you.”

  Cecil opens his mouth, emits a terrible, meat-scented roar right into the Hunters’ faces. They cringe, throw their hands over their ears, and take a step back.

  Cecil and I take a step forward.

  The one considers what to do, just for a beat, then turns and unlocks the gate. The other Hunters hold them open wide so we can enter.

  “No need to d-damage the gates now. I’m sure the King will be honored to see you, Your Majesty.” He bows his head, and we walk past.

  Our parade moves slowly down the empty streets. I’m struck again by how the place has changed from when I first entered the Bastion, nearly a year ago. It, as now, was dirty and filthy, most faces wide-eyed with hunger. But at least there was life around then: dogs and cats, children running around, families.

  Now, that’s all been destroyed by old Araroa, fed by his desire to rid the Bastion of anyone opposing him. The only residents that appear to remain are a handful of frightened tenants—like Hannah and her family—still clinging onto their homes, and an army of angry tyrants. Only one thing is certain: this evil is spreading into the rest of Nadir. It must be stopped or our beautiful kingdom will be no more.

  But as we descend upon the central square, there seem to be fewer Loyalists than I remember too. I can only surmise a number of them returned home after Dominic was crowned.

  Perhaps biding our time in the woods paid off, after all.

  Even so, the ones remaining are not happy when they see us pressing in toward the square.

  They line up at the arched entrances, blocking our way in. I’m still standing in front of everyone, with Leif, Tui, Catriona, and Imogen right behind me. Cecil has fallen back, but not far.

  “Oh hey—it’s that little girl again!” one Loyalist says.

  They laugh, holding their fat stomachs. Then one of the men’s eyes go wide and he nudges the man next to him. “What’s that?”

  “Where?”

  “That … bear-thing!” He’s pointing into the crowd behind me. “It’s huge!”

  I smile.

  “There’s about three dozen more, right behind that one. I suggest you let us pass voluntarily. Otherwise, he’s going to come over and move you for me. Maybe make a little lunch of you, to boot.”

  The men look at each other questioningly. Only a few seconds pass, then they step aside to let us enter.

  “Good choice.” I nod as I pass them, then continue walking toward the Palace. The other Loyalists milling about in the square stand back to let us through, eyes and mouths agape.

  Behind me, Cecil and his clan don’t hold back; they emit a few hair-curling snarls at the Loyalists, who shriek in response. Talk about little girls.

  Moments later, I’m standing before the Palace yet again. I yell out for Dominic to appear.

  The front door opens, just a crack. The hooded boy is there. He motions for me to come closer.

  His eyes glance behind me, registering with shock at the scene: the Treasoners, the Bearcats, my friends, all standing behind me.

  The Loyalists are still there, pushed to the side, against the walls of the square. They are greatly outnumbered now. I notice his eyes take this in, a hint of a smile forms on his lips.

  “I’d like to see Dominic, please. He’s got something of mine. And I’m here to take it back.”

  The boy nods. “I’ll give him the message, see if he’ll let you in.”

  “No, he needs to speak with me before my witnesses”—I wave my arm, indicating to the crowd behind me—“not make empty promises behind closed doors.”

  “Very well. I’ll pass that along too. I’ll warn you, you might as well make yourselves comfortable. This could take a while.”

  “We’ve got time.”

  “Excellent.” A corner of his mouth rises, he nods his head, then closes the doors softly.

  There’s a noise behind me, at the edge of the square. I spin around, trying to see where it’s coming from. Finally I spot it: some Loyalists are holding a teenaged boy back, preventing him from entering the square.

  “Mama! Papa!” He’s swinging his fists, trying to fight off the men even though they are twice his size.

  “Callum!” Nina shouts from the crowd of Treasoners. As she starts pushing her way toward him, the crowd parts to let her through. In seconds, she reaches the men who are restraining her son. “Let him go!”

  I watch in disbelief as the tiny woman lets loose on the men. She pounds them with her fists, screaming at them to release Callum.

  They seem utterly taken aback. Finally they toss Callum toward his mother, hurling some vicious words as well.

  That’s when I lose it.

  I stomp down the Palace steps toward the men. They are standing with their legs apart, hands on their weapons at their waists. They are clearly trying their best to be intimidating.

  It doesn’t work on me.

  “It’s—time—for—you—to—go.” With each word I poke the man’s chest in front of me. He towers over me, but I don’t care. “Go home. Go back to your family. Dominic’s on the throne. What do you have to be worried about?”

  “You.”

  The word catches my breath on an inhalation.

  “Me?”

  “That’s right.” The other men look at him, mouths hanging open. He shrugs. “All’a them’s too.” He motions to the crowd behind me. “You’re threatening our King. You—”

  “I’m your true King. I’m the true heir to the throne, the firstborn daughter of King and Queen Araroa. I’m who you should be protecting.”

  The man’s mouth doesn’t budge from its straight line. He says nothing for a long moment. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. We’re forsworn only to old King Araroa, and now King Dominic Araroa. And you are threatening him.”

  “How?”

  “Look at all of yous. Giant bears—”

  “Bearcats.”

  “Huh?”

  “Those are bearcats. They’re nice and friendly … unless provoked.”

  He swallows audibly.

  “I only want what’s rightfully mine,” I spit out.

  “And that is … ?”

  “My sword, and the throne of Nadir.”

  Before he can reply, I spin on my heel, and am quickly swallowed up by the crowd of Treasoners, as if they were a bubble of protection.

  Now, we wait for Dominic.

  By evening, it’s clear that Dominic is not going to grace us with his presence, so we make ourselves comfortable.

  The tents are erected, the women set up a makeshift kitchen, the men cobble together pens for the animals and chickens. Tui directs them to the Palace stables, where they bring back armfuls of fresh hay. Treasoners have gathered up old, broken furniture and are throwing bits and pieces onto a growing fire.

  The Loyalists continue to watch over everything, now relegated to the periphery, unsure of what to do about all of us. Several Hunters have appeared, standing guard in front of the Palace doors. They too, know they are far outnumbered.

  Especially with the bearcats curled protectively around us, like giant napping cats.

  After our simple supper is finished, I go and look for Nile. It’s been days since we’ve had more than a passing word and I’m eager to hear if he has any news.

  I find him seated on a stone-statue pedestal in one of the far corners of the square and settle myself down next to him.

  He’s holding a lit pipe, takes a puff, offers it out to me.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  His white beard twitches. A smile. “I don’t. Thought I’d give it a try. May as well live it up. Never know how many days I’ve got left.”

  I give him a sideways look, one brow raised. “That’s not a good reason to take up smoking.”

  “No? I th
ink it’s as good a reason to do anything.” Another twitch.

  I decide to get on with the subject. “Any news? About my family?”

  Another puff. “I’m afraid not, m’lady. Not a single word about them being seen anywhere. I fear—”

  “I don’t believe that. I still think that woman was lying. I still think they are out there, somewhere. Trying to make their way back to Baldachin … or to me. Maybe …” A thought pops into my head just then. “Maybe I should send some men out to look for them.”

  Nile considers this, tries to blow a smoke ring into the air, and fails. He shakes his head. “No. You should keep all you can here with you—especially those willing and able to fight. Maybe I’ll go … I do miss being on the road.” He takes a puff, purses his lips, blows a perfect smoke ring. “Well! Look at that!”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes. I consider his offer carefully. Nile’s traveled around, selling his wares—and his spirits—for decades; he knows his way around the kingdom well, and knows just about everyone too.

  But I know Leif will never allow it. His father’s getting on in years; Leif thinks he should retire as a salesman. In fact, I think he’s more than glad Nile’s been helping the Treasoners these past few months, instead of going off on his own. Especially with all the Loyalist activity these days.

  “Yes, Leif won’t like the idea though,” Nile says with a sigh. I look right at him, scrunching my brows. “What? Surprised that I know what you’re thinking?” He laughs; this time his teeth flash and his eyes twinkle with mirth. “I was young once, you know.”

  He pats my knee. “But if you think it’s a good idea, I’ll take care of Leif. Don’t you worry.”

  “If you wish to go, I won’t stop you.”

  “That’s my girl.” Niles takes another puff, blows another distorted smoke ring. “I think you’re right, actually. This pipe habit is overrated.” He tips the bowl upside-down so the smoldering tobacco falls to the stones, stomps it out with his boot, and stuffs the pipe in the front pocket of his jacket.