Shadow Queen by B.R. Nicholson

still.
    “Pretending nothing happened won’t erase the
past,” said Luka with a strained voice. “I can’t get those years
back. I can’t even get my old self back. What good is your peace ?”
    “There are other ways, Luka,” said Merrick.
He held his jaw firm, fearing he may say too much. This was his
only opportunity to set everything right and he was not about to
waste it.
    “No, father. Not for us,” said Luka, tearing
his heavy gaze from the horizon. His stare made Merrick’s hair on
his neck stand on end. “I know our people. I will always be a
monster to them… to you.”
    Merrick drew his son close to him in an
unexpected embrace. Luka did not struggle but he did not move to
reciprocate. “There is a place and a time where one day we will be
together. One day… me, you, your mother…” His voice stumbled in his
throat. “Goodbye, my son.”
    “Father—”
    Merrick drove the needle into Luka’s back.
Luka fell into the gritty sand, howling in pain. The poison would
work its way toward his heart within seconds. Luka suddenly went
rigid. His eyes stared daggers into Merrick as his breath gradually
grew shallow.
    Ilsie ran out over the rocky beach. She
crouched beside Luka, her face blanched with horror. “Merrick, what
have you done!” The black poison etched wicked lines in Luka’s
bronze skin, circling his heart.
    “ You will pay for this… ” Luka growled
with his final gasp of air.
    Merrick, his heart hollow, nodded. “I
know.”
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Fryx’s carriage rumbled along on the deserted
streets of Limra. They had been instructed to travel to Governor
Bastrick’s mansion, where they would be provided with
transportation to the city. The foggy details of the
situation set Astrid on edge.
    The carriage soon approached, allowing the
party to spill from its belly. They were rushed inside by guards
wearing rain-slick black armor straight to the Governor’s Seat.
    Bastrick was seated on his throne with one
leg kicked over its scrolled arm. His greasy black hair was plaited
against his sapphire blue scalp. He beckoned the party to come
forward.
    “It’s about damned time,” he said with air
whistling through his nose. He picked at his ashen nails. “A lift
has been sent for you… I see you have an escort, Fryx.” He paused
his pruning to nod at Astrid.
    Fryx shuffled his feet and nodded. “Yes, of
course. The best .”
    “You better be right, Fryx. I can’t afford
for this to turn sour,” said Bastrick as he narrowed his glossy
black eyes. “If these blasted wizards, or whatever the hell they
are, don’t want to make a deal, then you know what needs to be
done. No matter the cost.”
    Fryx nodded again. “Yes, you have my word,”
he said. “The city is in safe hands.”
    Bastrick scoffed and beckoned the guard.
“Take them to the lift.” He stifled a yawn with the back of his
hand. “Don’t make a fool of yourself, Fryx!”
    The party was led down a winding corridor and
up a spiraling flight of stairs. They soon emerged on the roof of
the mansion. A massive iron cage waited for them, its gate open
like a gaping mouth.
    “Why do I let you drag me into these
situations?” Ethen’s whisper hissed at her ear.
    “Think of it as an opportunity to become
closer as a family,” said Astrid. Questions about what lay above
them nagged at her from inside her skull.
    Jagged white towers reared up before them,
stabbing through the billowing black clouds. Astrid felt her mouth
drift open in shock at the incredible size of the city.
    The iron cage skidded to a stop against the
top of the massive city wall. A swarm of armored hands tore open
the cage’s top and thrust a ladder down into its belly. Astrid
watched the cowering goblins glance toward their master. Fryx waved
his hand, urging them to ascend. One by one, the pinched-faced
goblins crawled up the rungs of the splintering ladder. Fryx took
his place behind them. Ethen gulped and followed Fryx. Astrid
lingered at the