Thorn Queen. Richelle Mead

Thorn Queen - Richelle Mead


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      I was saved from an argument when others entered the room. Still staring mournfully at the dress, Nia retreated so my senior staff could talk to me. Yeah. Senior fairy staff. Three months still wasn’t enough time to get used to this.

      A tall, very lovely woman with glossy black braids strode in, her movements both athletic and graceful. Her name was Shaya, and I depended on her more than anyone else around here. She was my regent, handling all the dirty work I didn’t want to deal with, and I was grateful and lucky to have her.

      With her was Rurik, the captain of my guard. Having guards was also something that took a lot of getting used to—particularly since they always wanted to follow me around. Rurik and I had gotten off to a bad start, probably because he’d tried to rape me the first time we met. Sporting a large build and pale blond hair, he’d proven himself a capable servant, though I’d often found him fooling around with other women who worked here. I had let him know in a very pleasant voice that I’d rip him apart if I ever found out those women hadn’t consented to his advances.

      A few others trailed in, officials that I’d inherited with the castle when I killed its former king. I couldn’t remember half their names.

      “Welcome back,” said Shaya, smiling. She didn’t possess Nia’s rapture but still seemed genuinely pleased to see me.

      “Your majesty,” the others intoned, bowing.

      They waited for me to sit in one of the chairs, joining me a moment afterward.

      “Nia says we’re ready to go?” I asked, unable to hide my dismay at the upcoming trip.

      “Yes,” Shaya told me. “We simply await your command. At an easy pace, we should be able to do it in three hours.”

      I groaned. “Three hours. Do you know how crazy that is? I could do it in half that time by driving to a gateway in my own world and crossing over closer.”

      She regarded me indulgently, having heard this argument before. “You can’t show up at Queen Maiwenn’s court without your retinue.”

      Rurik, sprawled lazily in a chair, flashed me a grin. “It’s part of your image, your majesty.”

      I rubbed my eyes. “Alright. Whatever. Any word on Jasmine?”

      His smile faded. “No. We’ve still got scouting parties roaming the kingdoms, but they’ve found nothing.”

      “Incredible. You guys can make trees come to life and raise stones from the earth, but you can’t find one pouty teenage girl.”

      “We’ll find your sister,” Rurik said grimly. I think he’d taken this mission as a matter of personal pride. “It may take awhile, but we’ll find her.”

      I nodded because there was nothing else to do. The waiting infuriated me. Every moment that passed meant Jasmine, a mere fifteen years old, had another chance to get pregnant and give birth to a prophesied heir that would allegedly conquer the human world. I was subject to the same prophecy but was smart enough to use birth control.

      “Anything else? How are things going otherwise?”

      Shaya schooled her face to neutrality. “We manage, your majesty.”

      She kept her voice as blank as her expression, but I could see badly feigned disapproval on the others’ faces. They didn’t like the way I neglected my duties here. I suspected Shaya disapproved as well, but it didn’t stop her from sparing me the details of the Thorn Land’s day-to-day affairs. She knew I didn’t really want to hear them, no matter my asking, so she didn’t tell me.

      I noticed then just how truly oppressive the heat was in here. Everyone was sweating.

      “My God, it’s hot,” I said.

      They all stared at me, and I immediately felt stupid. What had I expected? When I’d conquered the kingdom, it had shaped itself to my will, transforming itself into my idea of perfection: the Sonora Desert. The castle had not changed, and remained in its constant state: thick blocks of stone. Black stone. Stone that absorbed heat like crazy and had little ventilation. It was the kind of place more suited to cold, misty moors.

      The land had been greener and more temperate under its last ruler, Aeson. Aeson and I had had a fair amount of friction because he’d been trying to get Jasmine pregnant and had wanted to give me a shot too, in hopes that he would be the father of that world-conquering prince. Plus, Aeson was just a total asshole. I’d killed him in battle, and when a ruler dies, the land seeks out someone else powerful. That someone else had been me. I’d claimed the land without realizing what I was doing, and that’s when it had transformed to this mirror of Tucson.

      It occurred to me how horrible it must be to live here. The gentry lacked most of the technology of my own world. No central air-conditioning. No electric fans. This place had to be roasting these people alive, particularly after what they’d been used to before I came along.

      Feeling bad for them, I reached out to the air around me with my mind. For a moment, there was nothing, and then I sensed the moisture particles hanging in the air. There weren’t many, but they were there. Spreading beyond the room, I pulled in more moisture, undoubtedly turning nearby halls and rooms into ovens. In here, however, the temperature dropped and grew moist. A slight thrill ran through me, as often happened when I tapped my inherited gentry magic.

      Tentatively, I then attempted to move the air itself in some sort of breeze. Nothing. I had managed that feat only once and couldn’t repeat it.

      Realizing what I’d done, Shaya crooked me a grin. “Thank you, your majesty.”

      I smiled back and stood. They all hastily followed suit, and I waved them down. “Hang out here if you want. It should stay cool for a little longer. I’m going to go do my…thing. Then we’ll go.”

      I left the castle for one of its courtyards, a wide, terraced area that I loved. Saguaros and blooming prickly pears lined it. Purple-flowered smokethorns, the tree that had given this land its name, stood sentry, as did mesquite, filling the air with sweetness. A few hummingbirds darted here and there like bright, flying gemstones.

      I sat on one of the steps that led to the upper gardens and closed my eyes. This was why I had to come back. If left to me, I would have never returned. But once the Thorn Land had bound itself to me, it was mine. It depended on me for its survival. I didn’t entirely understand my connection to it, but it was unbreakable. It was the reason I dreamed about this place. There was no escaping it.

      The sun beat down on me, forever reminding us we answered to nature in the end. My body relaxed, and soon, the life of the land spread into me. It always startled me at first, and then I quickly adapted, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The land was me, and I was the land. We were one, neither of us complete without the other.

      When I came to, I think almost an hour had passed. I stood up, shaking off my trance. I had extracted myself from that joining with the land but knew it was still with me. It was stronger for having just made the connection. I had fulfilled my duty.

      My party set out shortly thereafter. Horse riding was a skill I’d had to perfect pretty quickly since hanging out around here. There were no cars or planes.

      Shaya, Rurik, and Nia were with me, as were about a dozen guards. The guards rode stoically, eyes alert and watchful as they surrounded us. Rurik occasionally barked out an order to them, but mostly he bantered with Shaya and flirted with Nia. I wasn’t too good at casual conversation and mostly just listened, more entertained by them than I wanted to admit.

      It was late morning, and the sun showed us no mercy as we traveled. I fared better than the rest, wearing shorts and sunglasses. The other women at least had lightweight dresses, but the men wore full leather armor and had to suffer considerably. None of them complained, not even Rurik, but sweat poured down their faces.

      So, it was something of a relief when we hit our first shift in the land. It’s an oddity of the Otherworld that it folds in upon itself. Traveling is disorienting. In going in a


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